


Renegades

by gothikuk



Series: Renegades saga [1]
Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gore, Heresy, Multi, The Great Crusade, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothikuk/pseuds/gothikuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i started this arc a couple of years ago on Heresy Online, originally as a one shot of an alternative Heresy, its now spawned into 13 stories and with a couple of other writers joining this is the first story, the one that started it all</p><p>civil war is upon us all.<br/>The glorious Emperor of mankind has been corrupted and turned by the dark forces of the immaterial realm known as the warp. By his side stand Lorgar of the word bearers, Vulkan of the salamanders, the lion of the dark angels, Rogal Dorn of the imperial fists, Konrad of the night lords, Fulgrim of the emperors children, Angron of the world eaters and Ferrus Manus of the iron hands. These demi-gods and their immortal father are bringing the imperium into a new age one that will change the fate of the galaxy forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Venus IX was a world that was considered the beauty of the sector.

Brought into compliance with no bloodshed, the people of this world had accepted that the Emperor of mankind was the rightful and just ruler of the heavens and the worlds within his aegis that they saw no need to fire a shot in anger.

When the mighty Imperial Fist had claimed this world in the name of the Emperor the populace had celebrated and feasted for days on end. The sons of Dorn had, for once, managed to bring a world to illumination with no loss of life, shame it was not always like that.

For over thirty years Venus IX so called for its blue skies, white clouds and verdant forests, the clean crisp seas free from poisons and toxic waste, home to creatures that were descended from those long extinct on Holy Terra, had been a world loyal to the Imperium and a recruiting ground for the Imperial Fists themselves.

She had raised seven Imperial Army units all of whom fought alongside the Fists as their own detachment and had brought much honour and rewards to the people back home.  
The governor, a former commander of the Mercia III light infantry straightened his uniform, allowing the medals given to him in service to the Emperor and the Imperium to straighten.

He brushed then with his fingertips ensuring that there was not one speck of dust on them. His uniform was pressed to the highest standards; with creases down his trousers so sharp you could get a cut from them. His boots shone to the highest shine that he fancied he could see his reflection in them.

He stood straighter as his attendant clasped his cloak into place. Everything had to be right today; today was the first time in a decade that the sons of Dorn had returned here and not only that, Rogal Dorn himself was coming.

One did not appear before the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, the Emperors Champion looking like a recruit just awakened for early muster. He shooed away his attendant, a small fussy individual who had tutted over aspects of the governor’s attire even when the governor himself was pleased with how he looked.

“Enough Jerome,” He harshly spoke “Any more preening and I will look like a prize peacock, I am respectable”

“I just do not want you to be missing anything sir.” Jerome replied with a nervous edge to his voice.

Governor Jarus Kelnick did not blame him one little bit for his nervousness, the Phalanx, the mighty Imperial Fists vessel had entered their space an hour ago and if he said he did not feel nervous then he would be a liar.

Who would not be a nervous when they were about to come face to face with a demi-god?

 

He sat upon his throne. Closing his eyes and listening to the heart of his mighty starship, bigger than anything that had ever been seen, this floating monastery city that housed his sons in all their numbers.

From serfs to crew and his own gene-enhanced sons, the Imperial Fists this was their home. The Phalanx. A vessel so mighty that even from the ground it could be seen with the naked eye and that was enough to cause any heart to stop in fear. For when the home of the Imperial Fists, the sons of the Emperors own Praetorian came calling it was time to re-think and surrender.

He let his mind wander back, back to the Imperial Palace's inner sanctum in the place that the Emperor called his private peace. He had been locked underground working on a project that had taken him away from the crusade, away from the Imperium and away from his sons.

What had surprised him more was that upon his return there were only seven of his brothers present and he had been puzzled by the non-inclusion of the others, his father had welcomed them all with great hugs of affection.

He himself had been concerned and when he saw the master of the Night Lords standing side by side with the father of the Dark Angels and the Phoenix of the Emperors Children, a slight sense of dread had begun to sit in the pit of his stomach.

“Rogal,” His father’s voice, deeper than any of theirs and yet whilst spoken softly and with genuine affection, could be heard clear across the room “Konrad,” The Emperor turned to the pale all black master of Nostramo “it is time for you both to forget your differences”

The lord of the Imperial Fists and the father of night glared at each other but it was only Dorn who had felt the slight tremble in his hands as he faced the one brother who had almost killed him a few months ago.

“Come on now boys,” The Emperor placed his huge hands on their shoulders, Dorn held his head high at his father’s affection, Curze flinched visibly, unused to such show of affection from his father. “Kiss and make up”

Dorn could see Curze's eyes flicker a little and then with a slight hesitation he held his hand out. Knowing how much it must have took for his silent brother to even do that gesture Dorn held his hand in the warrior grip.

The Emperor seemed pleased by the act and bid them to sit down. He gazed amongst them all and nodded to himself. Almost as if he was pleased by what he had seen.

“Father,” Dorn was surprised to find that it was his voice that now broke the expectant silence “Where are Horus and the others”

The Emperors eyes darkened “They will not be coming” He rumbled and for the first time since he had been reunited with his father, Dorn finally understood where Konrad Curze got his dark and intimidating voice.

 

The lord of the Phalanx now watched the world below his scrutinising gaze. He was not here to parley with the governor, at this moment the Primarch was waiting to see if what he had been sent for was really here.

He had his vox officer send word to the surface that he would be delayed then rising from his throne retired into his stratagem and stood staring out his window. His eyes seemed to bore into the star field before him but his mind was back on Terra.

 

The Emperor moved back to his throne and sat himself down beckoning his sons towards him. Now Dorn saw who else was in this strange and bewildering meeting.

The hulking form of the War Hound himself, the Red Angel, the father of the World Eaters, with his red hair tied into braids and his implants that heightened his already fearsome rage to killing heights. He always reminded Dorn of some ancient gladiatorial warrior from the Romani of old Terra legends.

He reminded himself that Angron had been a gladiator but for some reason he pictured him in the old coliseums of Rome fighting his emperors enemies in the most bloodthirsty way he could. Then again Angron was a bloodthirsty killer held back by the sheer dint of being a Primarch and yet, yet he could sense that none of that mattered for when Angron was unleashed worlds trembled.

Beside him stood the lord of the Iron Hands, The Gorgon, and the master craftsman with hands of flowering mercury. If all his brothers were considered handsome on some level Ferrus Mannus was the opposite, the embodiment of his adopted world Medusa, there was no one more attuned to the ways of that volcanic world then the master smith himself.

Fulgrim, the one of them all that apparently looked like their father in his younger days and even with his snow hair he was certainly handsome enough to turn any heads. His pride showed in his legion, a cruel accident had robbed him of the majority of his legion before it was even born so, for a number of years he had fought in Horus' shadow until such a time that they were large enough in number to operate autumnally.

He was a Prideful man and that reflected in his legion and he never tired of reminding people when it was deemed necessary that they and they alone bore the Aquila upon their breastplates. Sometimes Rogal despaired of his prideful brother, but like the others he was a fighter and a warrior lord without peer.

His gaze fell upon Curze, the one brother who he was not altogether comfortable around and whose hand he had nearly died by. Konrad was murderous there was no doubt about that and their father had always waved away the excesses of the Night Lords saying that they were like the World Eaters and the Rout, when a world would not comply or had fallen out of the growing Imperiums light then he would send the Night Lords in to bring the Emperors Justice to them all.

He moved his gaze although it was not before those black eyes of the Night Haunter locked gazes with him for a split second and a thin cruel smile crossed those bloodless lips, Dorn held the gaze for a moment and for added effect Curze flexed his talons, Dorn rolled his eyes and continued with his assessment. Despite appearances there were some thing’s that would never change.

Beside him there stood Lion El'Johnnson, the lord of Caliban and in some ways the closest thing to a best friend that Curze had, to be honest the only ones that Dorn knew he got along with were Mortarion, Fulgrim and the Lion. As ever the Lion remained poker faced, his eyes nether flickering or giving away anything that might have given the lord of the Fists a clue as to what this strange gathering was all about.

Finally beside the Emperor in his resplendent armour, his gold leaf panted face and charcoaled eyes gazing at their father in rapt and unhidden adoration was Lorgar, the prophet of Colchis, the Word being just two of his affectations and right now he was looking at their father like he was a god.

“My sons. “The Emperor spread his mighty arms wide “Come follow me and you will share what I have learnt and what I have done to enable man to rule the stars.”

 

“The scouts report that all has been found My Lord.” Sigismund spoke close to his father’s ear “They encountered little resistance but the governor is now hailing us wanting answers, what I shall say to him?”

Rogal Dorn stared at the world below them and clasped his hands behind his back “Teach them what it is like to hide important relics that belong to the lord of mankind away” he simply said “Illuminate them”

Several hours later as the Phalanx moved away the last dying screams of Venus IX faded with the fires of a virus bomb and the turning point for the Crusade.


	2. Chapter 2

The only sound that could be heard was the song of death. Mighty titans strode the battlefield pumping out their visceral fury in the name of the Emperor and the great crusade. The warriors of the Deliverance Imperial Army fought alongside the mighty warriors of The Deliverer himself.

They could be seen in the air like giant missiles, their black and white armour all but a blur as they enacted their father’s orders. This world was not going to come to compliance willingly and as the titans hammered their deathly payload at the citadel walls the Raven Guard followed their father to victory.

The Imperial Army moved up under the shadow of the Deus Morti, a mighty Emperor Warmonger Titan, standing like a mighty god, its plasma reactor heart singing in battle, the ammunition that flew from its massive weapons cutting the air like a hundred  
Thousand rounds of death and everywhere it hit, it killed.

Corax himself was like a black whirl of obsidian, the flashes of his lightning claws cutting head from shoulders, limbs from socket and he was unstoppable. His pale features like a spectre of death was all that could be made out as the lord of Deliverance, delivered the Imperiums wrath to those who dared stand against it.

He soared into the air like a giant bird of prey, his first company behind him and hovered over the domed window, directing his first company to their targets and folding his arms across his chest like some ancient Pharaoh tuned himself upside down and accelerated towards the windows of the dome.

As he came down the glass around him shattered outwards and downwards. The glass was made to shelter from the world’s harsh elements and to some degree attacks but it was not strong enough to withstand the weight of a space marine and it was most certainly not made to withstand the charging attack of a Primarch.

At the last moment he righted him self and cooled his jets, his sons coming to land in rows behind him, their bolters up and ready, trained on the people in the senate house. Corax rose last from the crouch that he had landed in and raised his head.

The superstitious humans backed away from the dark haired pale god that rose before them, his dark eyes almost inhumanly dark seemed to bore through them and into their souls.

Although he looked like some pale rider of death his voice was anything but pale. A deep resonating voice that seemed to carry over the entirety of the room even though he spoke quietly.

“The time of your deliverance is at hand” He spoke “You cannot win this war and we will take more of you until you accept that we are only here to bring you back into humanities welcome embrace, as brothers and sisters, not as enemies.”

The rest of the senate, men and women all stepped back, terrified of the giants that walked amongst them and more petrified of the giant that seemed to rule over these men in black and white.

“Swear your oath to the Imperium and I shall end this needless death and destruction” He held his arms out almost as if he were imploring the people to listen to him, to see him not as a destroyer of their culture and their way of life, but more as a man who was going to help them usher in a new dawn.

The ruling members of this world named Halestron listened and as they listened they heard the sound of the Titan, the great monster that had caused so much death and destruction amongst their armed forces step closer and each step caused the ground to shake beneath its tread.

Stone fell from the buildings around them and their senate house itself shook as if the very gods that they had believed in all their lives were shaking the very foundations that this great building had been erected upon.

“What will happen to us?” One man asked, swallowing his fear and approaching the Primarch directly.

Bolters trained on him for daring to speak to their master without being spoken to first but Corax shook his head and the bolters were lowered.

“You will be re-educated into the arms of the Imperium and become a productive world alongside those of your kinsmen out in the stars. You will become part of a greater endeavour, your sons and daughters will join our armies to march in glory across the heavens and they will look back and say that this was a good day”

“We were part of a dictator once before and you would ask us to give our freedom from one over to another?” The man shook his head “a man that claims to be the rightful ruler of mankind, what gives him that right?”

Corax studied the man that stood no taller than his waist, his red hair seemed to be aflame in certain shades of light and his grey eyes bore into the face of the Primarch and showed no fear, Corax had to admire him for that at least.

It was very few humans who could hold the gaze of a Primarch without losing their sensibilities.

“Did he create the heavens? Did he create this world?” The man continued, “He had nothing to do with our world and yet after centuries of being cut off from this world that our ancestors left, he suddenly steps forth from the night and proclaims himself the rightful ruler of mankind”

Corax cocked his head to one side like a crow sizing up its next meal “He is the lord of Terra and he there is no other like him, there can never be another like him. He is ageless and he is immortal and that my friend gives him the right”

“Why couldn’t he have come himself?” The man finally asked “Why could he have not come himself and spoke to our liege lord who now lies dead under your army’s guns and tell us himself about this glorious Imperium of his?”

In truth Corax did not know what to say to the man. This brave man that stood up to him and asked him questions that not many others here would have dared. He liked him and he wished he could tell him the truth, but Corax did not know the answer to give that would not have been wrong to the man’s ears.

Instead he replied as a son and not a warlord that had come to drag their world into the new empire.

“He has many duties to perform to ensure that all worlds take their place as the rulers of the universe and so I and my brothers, his sons and our sons take the word out to the people ourselves.

There is no more gods, humanity does not need the shackles of religion, and it is what has kept them chained in ignorance. I understand why you fought us and fought us you did; your brave warriors all proved that they are loyal to their world.

Yet, let us bring you the Imperial Truth and let us learn from you as you will learn from us.”

“And if we do not you will kill us all where we stand?”

“I will do as my father orders to bring this world into the Imperium of man” Corax replied “but I do not want this bloodshed to continue. What is your name?”

That wrong footed the man a little and he almost did not reply, yet recovered quickly and held his head high, although looking up into the pale features of the lord of Deliverance almost gave him vertigo.

“My name is Drago”

“And how old are you Drago?”

“I am 19 winters old”

Corax removed one of his lightning talons and rested a hand on Drago’s shoulders “Would you like to stride the stars as a warrior of the Emperor, as a warrior without fear and a warrior bringing honour to his world?”

Drago arched an eyebrow “I thought I had brought honour to my world”

Corax swept his arm round him “Would you like to become one of my Raven Guard, one of my sons and stride into the unknown fighting the xenos that had plagued your world and others like it?”

Drago turned his gaze to the stoic warriors that surrounded the Primarch and swallowed heavily.

“Your world is not so far from my world of Deliverance” Corax gently spoke “I believe that many of your world’s sons would make fine additions to my sons and the armies that stride the universe”

Drago turned to his people and watched as one by one they lay down their arms and slowly moved to one knee. The fight had left them, with the monster at their door they had no wish to see any more of their people die and maybe it would not be too bad becoming part of this Imperium of man.

Drago clenched his fists for a moment and slowly he moved to one knee and bowed his head “Our world is yours…. my lord”

Corax nodded and turned his first captain “Salora, call it off, have the remembrances come down and the iterators and begin compliance”

“Yes my lord”

“And choose twenty of their young to return to Deliverance to begin the process of becoming Astartes…including this young man”

“He may still resent you for taking his world Lord, is that wise?” Salora cautiously asked.

“It’ll make him strong, there is a fire in him that I like, reminds me of when I was that age”

Salora laughed but behind his vox grill it came out more like the snort of a bullock “Were you ever that young my lord?”

Corax allowed himself a wry smile and shrugged “Maybe not but still I like him.”

Salora nodded and stepped towards the still kneeling Drago and took his gently by the arm “Say goodbye to your mother and father Drago…”

“They are dead already” He muttered.

Salora was silent for a moment then continued “Then come with me and soon you will be part of a new brotherhood and one that will teach you how to be a warrior of mankind.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Emperor stood in the centre of the monastery fortress that was home to the Word Bearers, watching sternly as Lorgar and his First Chaplain set the gifts brought here by his other sons reverently.

They set them on the plinths that the Emperor had pointed out and then ordered the Astartes out, only he and his sons would witness this.

It was quiet at first and then, in low murmurings Lorgar began to recite from a book that his father had given him. As Rogal watched he met Konrad’s gaze and for the first time in those dark dead eyes he saw a spark of life, a spark of acceptance.

Ferrus stood with his head held high like some ancient knight waiting for his benediction, Fulgrim stood tall and proud, pride being what he knew best, and it radiated off him. Angron trembled from head to toe, like a berserker straining at the leash to be set free from his confines and to bring death and mayhem to the universe.

The Lions eyes blazed with glories untold and the future as he saw it. He returned his gaze to his father who now stood with his arms outstretched and whether he wanted to or not he could not help but follow his brothers in the chant that came from Lorgars lips.

Just behind the Emperor stood Constantine Valdor, his features stoic and his loyalty as ever to the man in the centre of the room, no matter where it would be. Or what path it would take.

Suddenly Lorgars voice rose in intensity and behind him a cacophony of voices echoed like a demonic choir. Wherever their father had been and whatever he had seen he had made his choice and the powers in the warp had answered him.

Great forms materialised behind him. Too his right was a towering hulking warrior who blood like a shroud, the coppery tang of it followed him wherever he moved. Anger and rage contained in one cauldron of blood and hate.

Another was like a bloated giant that held the tang of disease and pestilence around him but for the moment it seemed to be kept in check by what none of them knew. Death followed, as surely in his steps as it did the simmering other beside him.

To the Emperors left stood a huge form that seemed to swirl with many colours, a riot of colour that one moment was humanoid, the next a great feathered serpent they could not even be sure which was real and which was false, the hands of fate and destiny weaved into one powerful form

At the end stood a man who was also feminine, half the body of a man the other half of a woman and oh how beautiful he looked, pleasure and pain emanated off him/her in equal measure and all that was in-between.

In the middle their father turned his face to the heavens and his eye lit with arcane power, power that had birthed him so many scarlet forgotten centuries ago and as Lorgars enthralled and rapture voice came to the end of his Gregorian chant their father lowered his head and encompassed his chosen sons.

“I am a god,” he bellowed, “as are you all!”

Lorgar moved to one knee followed by Fulgrim, then Angron, Valdor followed Angron then the Lion, Ferrus was next and slowly as one Dorn and Curze did the same. Their loyalty made forever bound to their father and his destiny.

“What of our other brother’s father?” Fulgrim asked waiting for his father’s instructions as a follower waited anxiously for the leader’s next words.

“They will not see my dream and we shall make them see it… I will either have you all or they will die.” The Emperor bid them rise “do this secretly my sons, until the time to strike and when I give the signal then things must be as they always were.”

They stood as one and swore their allegiance not only to their father once more as they had done when he had first set foot upon the worlds he had found them upon but to the powers that walked alongside him.

 

Magnus woke with a start, the sweat pouring from his brow and for the first time in his life he knew what it was to feel fear. He reached for a goblet but his shaking hand spilled it from the desk sending it crashing to the floor and spilling its contents.

He breathed several times to try and calm his superhuman body, he had tried to see if his dream, nay his nightmare was just that or real but instead of the calm after such a vision all he could see was the same waking vision.

His father…

He had warned his father countless times that no matter how much he thought he could control the powers of the warp eventually it would make him an offer that even he could not refuse.

His father had laughed at him and told him that he and he alone knew how to work the warp and for all his power Magnus was not yet ready to contain or control such abilities.

Now it would appear neither did his father.

He got up, Horus had to be told, and Horus would know what to do


	4. Chapter 4

Perturabo watched cautiously as the Dark Angels disembarked from their troop’s ships and drop pods. His warsmiths stood around him also watching the arrival to the first legion with a perplexed air.

It was not like the other legions to interfere in the work of the siege master himself. The Comrade folded his massive arms across his chest, his cold indifferent eyes gave nothing away, and none of the warsmiths dared ask what his thoughts were on these most unexpected turnarounds.

Perturabo showed little interest in the machinations of his other brothers. He did not see eye to eye with all of them for one reason or another, with perhaps the exceptions of Horus and maybe Vulkan but that was it.

He had received word that the Dark Angels were coming to aid them find a solution to the siege of the Hansana Fortress. He had baulked at that, the very idea that he, the Olympian, the siege master without peer needed aid galled him and as it had come direct from their father it had made his father look all the more slight in the sullen Primarchs eyes.

Forrix, captain of the first grand company bowed before his father “Forgive me my lord,” he began “But why has the first legion been sent here? The Emperor beloved by all knows how we operate”

It was a while before his Primarch spoke and when he did it was that same tone that he always used, a cadence that would never let anyone knows or understands what he really thought, not even his sons.

“That my son is a good question,” he rumbled darkly.

 

The Warsmiths bowed as the Lion joined his brother and clasped his hand in a warriors grip. The Dark Angels with him bowed their heads but Mannran and Hardan, two of Perturabos bodyguard noticed that the Dark Angels did this more out of instinct then any real respect for their father and when this observation had settled in their heads they found themselves gripping their halberds tightly.

Still despite what they and their brothers might have thought the fact that they were in the presence of two mighty demi-gods awed them beyond belief, the human officers of the Olympian Imperial Army had to avert their eyes less they were unmanned by the sight of two giants standing together.

The Lion looked over the trenches that his brothers’ sons had dug and nodded to him self. Even he had to admit that when it came to this war craft then even Rogal Dorn could learn a thing or two.

The Lion was amused that his brothers referred to Perturabo as The Comrade but he, like his brothers he was curious how the Iron Warriors managed to have such an affinity with technology and, like the Iron Hands had some sort of affinity with the mechanicum.

Not a lot impressed the Lion but the way Perturabo seemed to sweep his stern gaze over a battlefield and know instinctively where to place elements of his legion and the supporting titans was nothing short of uncanny.

The people of this world called by the locals D’reana Jackala or as it translated into high gothic Sandstorm Plateau had not wanted to become part of this mighty Imperium. They had long held onto the tenants of their own orders and beliefs and saw no reason why they should have to give it up.

The Iron Warriors had swept across the continent, a single landmass with one ocean like hell unleashed. They may be masters of siege warfare but when it came to close combat then there were those that said they were more berserk then even the World Eaters or Blood Angels.

In a matter of days the Iron Warriors had brought down the majority of these desert worlds bastions and now only this mighty fortress remained. The trenches had been dug overnight and at a speed faster than anyone would have thought and this was only the first parallel.

Perturabo ignored his observing brother and stood directly before the bastion. His mighty arms folded across his chest and his harsh eyes boring into the hiding soldiers. His own enhanced senses hearing the terrified hammering of their hearts, the stink of their fear as it manifested in sweat and urinated britches and loosened bowels.

These were soldiers on the brink of surrender and he had herded them like a shepherd into this fortress. It would not stand he had already worked out the right amount of firepower needed to bring it down. Still this was what he did best and he had some inane need to wipe the stern expression off the face of the first legion.

“Hear me and hear me well” He boomed, his voice causing more humans to cower in fear.

They had never had to face such an enemy before, they were demons sent by the dark gods to take them into slavery or worse, to feast on them. When the Iron Warriors had heard this they had found some amusement in it.

Had it been the World Eaters then that might have been a little bit closer to the mark. Still it had served a purpose, they were fed up here and they wanted to be elsewhere but they knew that the Emperor, beloved by all would expect their father to pick a company to garrison the world.

And that was something that was getting on their collective nerves and it rattled their father too. They had brought worlds into the Imperium as well as any other legion but that was overlooked, a lot.

“I will give you but one chance to lay down your arms” Perturabos voice brought his sons out of their collective musings “You has until sunrise tomorrow to surrender your arms and open the gates. This is the only chance you will get”

He stood for a moment longer as if to emphasis his point, then turning his back he walked back to where his brother stood and took him into the command tent dismissing the other officers.

When Primarchs got together it was for their ears only and no one else had a right to listen.

“So Lion” Perturabo closed the flap on his tent and met his brothers eyes “What brings you to this godforsaken planet”

The Lion smiled a little and straight away a shiver wound its way down The Comrades spine. It was not a feeling he was used to and it was unpleasant.

“Father wishes this world to be taught a lesson brother, how not to battle against his will and his sons”

“You know how I operate Lion, I do not just murder a world for the sake of insult to the Imperium, and they get one chance to surrender no more.”

The Lion moved round the tent, brushing his fingers against the desk that housed all the plans that the warsmiths and their father made. It was a long while before he spoke and when he did his voice sounded haughtier then it usually did to the lord of Olympia’s ears.

“Things are changing brother and we are here to aid you”

“I do not need your help” he spat.

“Indeed” The Lion inclined his head a little accepting that this was probably not the right choice of words. “My words are poorly chosen Perturabo and I – apologise. I just feel that it is a shame that your brave sons must forever garrison worlds that the humans can do. “

“It’s never been an issue before now” Perturabo frowned a little.

“Like I said brother, things are changing and if the humans within that bastion are foolish enough to continue this war then allow me and my sons to wage war alongside you.”

Perturabo nodded but he did not like this sudden show of brotherly affection by the Lion, it was out of character. This was not the Lion El’Johnnson he knew and that was in itself cause for concern.

 

Dawn seemed a long time in coming for the Imperial Army and their Astartes masters. But if it was a long time for them it was probably even worse for the warriors behind the walls of the fortress.

Once they had been complacent in their view that these fortresses of stone could withstand any attack by any invader and had it been any invader that might have been true.

Had it been any other Astartes with perhaps exception to the Imperial Fists then they might have held out.

But this was the comrade, the siege master and there was not a fortress built that he had not risen to the ground. This was why his father chose him for this kind of warfare, because despite his brothers rubbing it in his face about Dorns master of fortifications status none could do what he did.

The sun climbed the morning sky sluggishly almost as if it knew that this might be the last day that the people of this world would gaze upon its millennia upon millennia journey. Even the birds had fallen silent and Perturabo for a moment felt sorrow for this world.

It was a fleeting moment but it was there never the less, not that he let anyone see it. He had a job to do and he did not want his brother upstaging him like he seemed to upstage everyone else around him. This was his theatre of war and he would listen to what he had told him.

Whether he liked it or not.

Forrix shook his head, as his father stood beside him “They have not surrendered my lord” he quietly said “I see guns on the emplacements and along the walls. They want to die I think”

“Then we shall give them their wish.” He nodded to himself “Shame really but they have brought this upon themselves…sons of Olympia lets show them what it means to die with honour”

 

The warriors in the bastion fought with all they had left, they may have been afraid of the giants in burnished silver with black shoulder pauldrons and yellow chevrons. They could not stop the rain of death and destruction as the mighty titans and guns that accompanied the Iron Warriors wherever they went brought the walls of their impenetrable fortress tumbling down.

When the restates came over the walls both Iron Warriors and Dark Angels cut them down like they were nothing more than training dummies. The blood turned the remnants of the fortress stone red.

Their rifles were no match against the bolters that barked into soft flesh blowing them to pieces or power swords that cut them in half cauterising the cuts as they went with their intense heat.

Lion El’Johnnson roared an affirmation to the Emperor that Perturabo was not altogether sure he had heard correctly. The two Primarchs battled their way to the central tower although battled was probably not the correct word. More to the point massacred their way would have been better.

When they got to the top Perturabo lowered his mighty Warhammer and stood looking at the terrified women and children that huddled together. He had killed warriors who really were no match for him or his sons but he was not about to kill women and children.

He stopped his brother as he came in and looked at the leader of the shattered people. The sound of the guns his power and the screams of dying and wounded joining the cacophony of noise that surrounded him and it were working.

“Your women and children will see in the new Imperium if you wish to live stop now, you have my word that nothing more will befall your warriors, they have my respect but they have lost against the forces of the Emperor”

The man closed his eyes and looked at the terrified family groups. They had been protecting their families. News had reached him that not many people had survived the initial onslaught of the Iron Warriors.

He heaved a shuddery breath “What will happen to us…will you kill me for not surrender to you at dawn?”

Perturabo was about to answer when the Lion walked up to the terrified man and raised him off the ground.

“What are you doing?” Perturabo roared.

“Carrying out our fathers will “The Lion retorted “Your people will live to serve the master of mankind you will not, he has no need for a broken leader” and with a deft flick of his wrist broke the man’s neck.

Perturabo stared and then roared. He grabbed the Lion and threw him clean out the room. He turned to his first company “Take the humans out of here and the fighting stops now, we have won do not allow any more to die.”

“Yes my lord” Forrix bowed his head and did as his father ordered mobilising his company at the same time.

Perturabo stood over the Lion as he got to his feet “What did you do that for?”

“Brother, they would have rebelled you know this, your adoptive father still vexes you even now…”

“That” The Comrade hauntingly warned, “is none of your concern. I told him he was not going to die then you kill him! You have dishonoured me!”

“I did what was the right thing to do” the Lion corrected

“That was not the right thing to do!” Perturabo, usually so calm and quiet, his brooding nature making his brothers and those who did not really understand him see him as a petulant child roared his anger.

“You think they would have stayed loyal?” The Lion laughed incredulously “They would have rebelled and you know it”

“I know nothing of the sort” Perturabo growled, “I don’t know why you were sent here but get your sons and get off my theatre”

“I told you brother things are changing and you will change with them,”

“On who’s say so? A man that is so paranoid he sends half of his legion back to Caliban to forget them” Perturabo sneered “If this is your idea of change brother I want no part of it” he spat and stood straighter “Get out of my LZ”

The Iron Warriors watched as the Lion led his sons away Perturabo narrowed his eyes. There was no reason to kill that man, he had been beaten and he would have been a loyal citizen of this the lord of Olympia was certain but what the Lion had did was beyond belief.

“Get the remembrances here,” He barked “Bring the Imperial Truth to this world”


	5. Chapter 5

The Blood Angels stood sentinel over the populace of Racas. Alongside them their cousins of the Alpha Legion Months of work on the Alpha Legions part had ensured that this had been a relatively bloodless transition.

There were pockets of resistance but the Imperial Army were finishing them quickly and efficiently.

In the vast senate hall, Sanguinius and Alpharius were accepting the terms of surrender. Alpharius had to admit that in the ways of illuminating the lost worlds this had been a lot easier than he had first suspected it would be.

His skill with covet operations had made his legion the best ones to aid Sanguinius in this endeavour, and it was the first time that the two brother Primarchs had warred alongside each other.

He had admired the sons of Baal in that they were so attuned to their father they seemed to follow everything he did with a desire not born from their genetics but from a genuine love for him.

Then again it was not hard to see why. Alpharius prided himself on his independence from sibling rivalries and the sometimes-sycophantic actions of some of his other brothers and yet what was said about the Angel was perfectly true.

His wisdom and his nature made him a great diplomat and his nature swayed most people to his way of thinking. It was well known that the warmaster himself cherished Sanguinius above all his brothers and accepted his council without the need to wonder if there was some other hidden agenda.

He said very little during the proceedings, leaving it all to his more diplomatic brother but that did not mean that he was not watching what was going on around him. He was not comfortable here.

There was something not altogether right about this and he had told his brother that he would be keeping watch over the proceedings. Sanguinius had agreed, he never disputed his brothers gut feelings unless he thought they were unfounded but even he had sensed that this had perhaps been a little too easy.

Not that he was not relieved at the fact, the mighty angel relished when illumination went easy but in his experience this had been a little too convenient. When the leader of Racas, a tall yet strangely feminine looking man by the name of Ferrac withdrew to deliberate the terms that the Astartes had put forward Sanguinius joined his brothers’ side.

He lowered his voice and his head to prevent anyone from listening to what he was about to say to his brother.

“Whilst they are happy to become part of the Imperium, they are not ready to embrace the Emperor”

“Beloved by all” Alpharius intoned.

“Indeed” Sanguinius nodded slightly.

“It is as if they are stalling” Alpharius scratched his jaw a little and cast an eroticism glance around him “They are waiting for something else”

Sanguinius agreed and took a quick look over his brother. He had no hair and there was a slight copper tinge to his skin, the fact that he had a resemblance to Horus and was the only one of the brothers to do so made Sanguinius think that perhaps Horus and Alpharius were not so far apart as people thought.

He was called The Specialist and there was a reason for it, when it came to covert actions and information gathering, there was none better than Alpharius. His information network was second to none and although Sanguinius; nor indeed all the other Primarchs, knew how he did it, he was never wrong.

His information was always spot on. Alpharius’s heavyset brow furrowed a little as if he was musing over some tit bit of an idea that had been nestling in his cranium.

“Ask for a few days adjournment brother” Alpharius finally spoke “I will look into this further”

Sanguinius rubbed his own jaw, his golden locks moved in motion with his agreement. Alpharius once again realised why it was that The Angel was considered the most noble of them all.

“That will not be an issue, but what do you expect to find my brother?” Sanguinius was curious now.

“Hopefully nothing” Alpharius replied but the tone of his voice did not reflect his hope. He flashed his rune on the helm of his first captain Ingo Pech who responded immediately.

“My lord?”

“Have Hurt and Peto ready for me upon my return to the Alpha” He glanced over his shoulder at the door where Ferrac and his entourage had left moments before “I have a job for them and Rukhsana”

“It shall be done”

 

Ferrac closed the door behind him and shooed his entourage away. He did not need their constant chattering informing him that these men of the stars could blow them away with their star power in but an instant.

He could tell that behind the veneer of the one that had introduced himself as Sanguinius and the other who was called Alpharius, death and destruction laid in their wake. He sat before his dresser and held his own gaze in the mirror for some time.

He was handsome and he had his choice of lovers each night be they male or female he did not care much, there was a release in pleasure that gave him a high like some addict, that other things never good.

He had been bored during his school years; the tutors never seemed to want to expand on the things that he wanted to talk about, like where did the goddess Nasheba come from? She off the dual heritage. Nasheba being her feminine side and Torjara the male aspect.

He had lost count of the amount of times he had been sent to the priest to confess such an unholy fascination with the dark queen and black king. He had decided that he would worship them in secret; his parents were wealthy due to his father’s business acumen and his mother’s political strategies.

Then it had happened. Years of wanting to follow this deity in the open, to bring about her message of peace and love had all come to fruition. She had appeared to him, he had been vindicated in his years of devotion to her and she had shown him the many pleasures of the fleas.

Ferrac had been a most willing pupil and now as he sat regarding his affection and tsking as he found some Kohl out of place and smoothed it away he recalled the secret meetings. There were others like him; others who wished to follow the king and queen of pleasure and who had been stiffened in their beliefs.

No one had bothered to question the disappearance of the whores or the stray children, for he had learnt that their lives would be best suited to a servitude that he envied. And after all the most delicious soul to be served would be the soul of an innocent.

He had taken every step to ensure that he gained power, even following in his illustrious mother’s career, by the time he was twenty-five summers he ruled this world.

“She has brought you great success has she not?”

He turned, momentarily startled at the deep voice behind him and watched as a figure stepped into the light of his private quarters.

“Nasheba has always looked after me” he sniffed haughtily. “Your father needs not worry I know what must be done”

The man stepped closer, no not a man, a giant in cerise armour with gold lining upon his chest blazed a two headed eagle etched in finest gold plate. As he removed his helm the hiss of the seal was almost like a sigh.

Against his waist sat a sword of the most exquisite design and his face was the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

“Make sure that you do Lord Ferrac” The Astartes softly spoke “For your dark god is our mistress as well and we are her chosen sons”

“How can you be her chosen son?” He scoffed “You came to me some months ago knowing nothing about her, and here you are telling me that all of a sudden that you are her chosen”

He turned away from the behemoth and continued realigning his make up when he was yanked out of his seat and held by his throat. There was no threat in the giants’ face just; well more of enquiry into how the human was acting.

The grip was loose around his neck but Ferrac was under no illusion that this behemoth could if he so chose snap it like a twig and that thought send a shudder of pleasure through him.

He enjoyed the pain as much as the pleasure and that in it self was what amused the giant. Probably what saved his life too?

“Do not mock me” The Astartes warned “You are to allow the Blood Angels and the Alpha Legion to leave here thinking that they have achieved illumination”

“And then what?” Ferrac smiled and part of him was almost pleading to be closer to this white haired handsome Adonis before him.

“Then we shall begin” The Astartes set him down “your world will become the mainstay of this system where you will raise temples to the Emperor and my father as we ensure that our dark lady lord of pleasure has a place to call home”

Ferrac rubbed his neck and nodded a little “And you are?” He asked, “you have never told me your name”

The Astartes turned his back and seemed to meld into the shadows of the room “Lucius” He replied before leaving the chamber.


	6. Chapter 6

The Emperors Children, the pride of the master of mankind and the only one of their brother legions to bear the sacred Aquila, the symbol of the growing Imperium and the master of mankind.

It had taken Fulgrim a while to accept this new direction that his father was taking them all and he had expressed some doubts in his father’s plans. Lorgar had listened to him and had told him that doubts were to be expected.

Recently the Emperor had sent Fulgrim and his sons to the planet of the Larean and he had returned with a sword so exquisite that he believed it had been carved and forged for the Emperor and the Emperor alone.

He had presented it as a gift to his father and a while later he had been given the sword by his father in recognition of the ideals that he strove to instil into his sons. Fulgrim loved art and everything that was ascetically pleasing to him.

He had arrived on Chemos as an infant and from that resource poor world of rationing and regulated birth allowance he was allowed to live. Although looking back on it he had often wondered if it had been possible to kill a Primarch, infant or otherwise

The irony of all this was that when the ruling family of the settlement of Callax took him in, he was given the name of a long forgotten god. Like all Primarchs he grew to manhood quickly and was forging his own legend.

He turned the fortunes of the dying Chemos around and half a century later, Fulgrim was the sole leader of Chemos. Fulgrim was perfection, to him there was no other more perfect being then the Emperor and when he took command of the III legion.

He had discovered that some accident had destroyed a vast majority of his gene-seed and as a result he only had two hundred warriors to call his sons. Such was the speech that he delivered to his sons; his father gave them the name The Emperors Children and allowed them and them alone to bear his symbol on their breastplates.

The Emperors Children were perfectionists, and this would often bring them into odds with their brother legions and none more so than the World Eaters. To be honest Fulgrim enjoyed the snipping with his brother.

He liked the challenge occasionally and whilst there was an amount of animosity, neither Angron nor Fulgrim denied their heritage more so now they were joined under their fathers’ new banner.

Fulgrim ran his hand along the sword pommel and stared out into the vastness of space. He had anchored his vessel behind the moon of Racas. The Pride of the Emperor had used the moons natural shielding to prevent them from being detected by both The Alpha of the Alpha Legion and The Blood of Baal of the Blood Angels.

He had taken Lorgars word on this world and had secretly been guiding the populace towards accepting the rule of the Emperor, however as it had been Sanguineous and Alpharius who had fought the initial battle it would not be deemed correct to march in there and take over.

He heard his door open and without breaking his stare his asked, “Yes?”

“My lord” He recognised the voice of Lucius, “It is done”

Ordinarily it would have been Eidolen who would bring this to him but he had ordered Lucius to report to him and him alone. For whatever reason he seemed to have a way with this Ferrac mortal.

“Do you believe he will accept the terms of agreement?” Fulgrim arched a perfect eyebrow and Lucius was well aware that his father, his glorious Primarch did not believe this mortal would follow through on his word.

In fact he believed that the human would renege on the deal as soon as a better offer came along and one that would see him in a greater position of power. The captain of the 13th company relayed these thoughts to his Primarch.

Fulgrim rose from his seat and Lucius felt both his hearts beat faster, when the Phoenician rested a hand on his shoulder his already large pride shone larger. Lucius was the pretty boy of his brothers and he cared little what they said behind his back.

 

His wish was to be perfect in the eyes of his father and his grandfather. That he was at least on par with the other Emperors Children. He looked down on other legions, more so the more barbaric ones like the World Eaters, Space Wolves, Blood Angels and Lunar Wolves, who in his eyes whilst led by gods were nowhere near as perfect as the Phoenician.

Fulgrim turned his back and resumed staring at the moon before him. He had been under orders from his father to ensure that this world was to be loyal, however as their fathers plans were to be done in the utmost of secrecy he had also been ordered that the moment these people were going to not agree to Sanguinius or Alpharius’s diplomatic overtures then it was to be taught a lesson.

Fulgrim turned his head to where Lucius was kneeling, had bowed. As arrogant as the young pup was, he was the best swordsman in the legion, there were none better than him and his father willing and the patronage of the being called Slaanesh, men like Lucius would be the future of the legion.

“Lucius”

“My lord”

“This moon, I assume it affects the gravity of this planet, like our own Lunar used to govern the tides on ancient Terra?”

Lucius joined his father’s side and nodded “I would assume so my lord”

Fulgrim nodded “We cannot directly attack should they decide to go back on their agreement for that would be my brothers actions…we could however destroy this moon and make it look like an accident of nature” Fulgrims handsome eyes bore into his son and Lucius felt his hearts hammer harder and a swell of pride wash through him.

“Who knows the workings of the universe my lord, I believe the debris from such an explosion would place this world at some risk”

“Like?”

Lucius straightened himself “The first aspect of the destruction of the moon by any “normal” means, such as collisions by giant asteroids or hundreds of thousands of nuclear bombs is the debris. The debris caused by any destruction such as this would be captured into the Earth’s atmosphere, blocking out the sun for decades and coating the world in moon dust. This would quickly lead to the death of all plant life and subsequently all animal life as well.

Even if the moon were to simply vanish or be vaporized without a trace, it would not bode well for life. Weather would be adversely affected. This is due to the spin of the world on its axis. First, Racas would spin faster because the gravity of the moon causes some drag on the spin, also the angle of the planet’s axis would change. This tilt is what causes the seasons. If it were to change, Racas will get hotter or colder, affecting living conditions for millions of species.

Additionally, the moon is responsible for most of the tidal effects of the ocean. Current ocean life depends on the tides for feeding and availability of resources. A lot of weather patterns also depend on the tides and ocean currents. So yes my father, a sudden disappearance of the moon would mean disaster for them all.”

Lucius watched Fulgrims face and smiled a little “But of course you know this my lord”

Fulgrim rested his hand once more on Lucius shoulder “Forgive me my son; I was curious as to your own knowledge. Speak with the priests and see what they say, if things are to go this way then I will need the skills to make this look like an accident of the universe”

“Yes my lord”

Lucius bowed his head and made for the doors of the stratagem. Fulgrim watched as he left and nodded to himself, that one would need watching, there was something special about him and Fulgrim was curious as to why Eidolen had not brought the 13th captain to his attention before.


	7. Chapter 7

The lord of the Angels was beginning to lose his patience with the pompous fop before him, The mighty Sanguinius was known for his patience, it was said that his cool calm demeanour was likened to one of what ancient Terrans called saints, but right now even that was starting to gnaw away,

He was happy to do as his brother asked and although he was not privy to what actions his brother had put in place he knew that it was only to get to the end of this tedious and arduous journey and return with his sons to the great crusade.

Although come to think of it…he did not like the way that this Ferrac looked at him. He had seen his mortal crew and his own people on Baal with the same expression, usually when they had met the partner of their dreams.

He envied that aspect of the human nature being so alien to him, he was built to wage war and build empires for his father but occasionally he often wondered what that look that passed between man and woman or in some aspect man and man or woman and woman meant.

Now he had the distinct feeling he knew. He heard a chuckling behind him and glanced round to see Alpharius with a slight smile on his face…that stunned him in the short time that he had known his brother, he had never smiled and here he was with a slight mirth on his face,

When Ferrac had ordered his scribes draw up their wishes he took the time to ask his brother what was so amusing,

“Forgive me brother” Alpharius cleared his throat “it is just I too read human emotions and it would seem that the lord of this world has a – soft spot for you, more so than any mortal meeting a Primarch”

“Well is should end this farce soon then…”

“That is not what I meant”

Sanguinius arched an eyebrow then rolled his eyes as realisation dawned on him. “Then he is going to be slightly disappointed isn’t he” Alpharius snorted a little and coming from a Primarch it could sound like a consumptive bull. “Any news yet?”

Alpharius stood straighter “I will go find out. It has been several days brother and I am beginning to wonder if this fop is all that he seems.”

“So answer me something”

“If I can”

“Why is it your sons always say I am Alpharius?”

“It is the way of my legion brother, we are all one and like the Hydra of myth cut off one head another grows in its place. I am the Primarch but my sons are also Primarch’s, they are me and I am them.”

Sanguinius mused a little. Most Primarchs wanted to have that feeling of oneness with their sons, but in reality it was almost impossible, a Primarch was far above the Astartes as the Astartes were amongst mortals.

It was good however that the Alpha Legion seemed to have worked at that and it had become part of them. Had he known about the Alpha Legions most guarded secret then he would have known that he was actually talking to Omegon and not Alpharius?

The other Primarch took his leave and walked outside to meet the other men with him, “Forsch” he addressed his sergeant in the ephite squad “any news?”

“Perhaps my lord, you had better come with me this is for silent ears only”

Knowing how his sons and his brother valued their secrecy Omegon agreed and yet some part of him wished he could have told Sanguinius that he was his brother too. However that was not their way and as such he was not about to break the rules of the legion on a whim.

He walked with Forsch to where the three agents his brother had sent out to discover more about this world were sat and they looked awful.

Peto looked like he had gone ten rounds with a Grok Bull and only just won, Hurt was nursing a broken arm and the Uxzor herself was sparked out in unconsciousness.

“What happened?” He asked concerned at their appearance and wondering what the hell his three most experienced agents had walked into.

“The Chemos third intelligence my lord” Peto struggled to stand but Omegon stayed him and sat across from him.

“Tell me it all Peto”

 

There was an entire network of agents that worked for the Alpha Legion. Some were more expansive then others and others had what would appear to be menial jobs but in reality nothing in the Alpha Legion could be considered menial.

Alpharius and Omegon recruited from various agencies across the worlds they brought into compliance but none were more part of them then those they had recruited from the Geno Five-Two Chiliad.

Their own Imperial Army attachment with their own proud genetic heritage and the three that Alpharius had ordered sent into the field were a constant source of pride to him. They might not have liked their mission to begin with, working in the cloak of such secrecy that surrounded their Astartes lords but they eventually became part of the hydra.

Alpharius had been quite explicit in his orders. Find out about these people and if there are any secrets that they and the Blood Angels lord should know about.

They had ingratiated themselves into the planets society and had been bemused by what they had seen. The Racasian people appeared to the trio to be nothing more than overly hedonistic.

Their artists had certainly created breath-taking frescos of their world’s patron deities, one that would soon be forgotten under the veil of enlightenment. Still, the images made them shiver a little.

In fact Rukhsana was not comfortable looking at the paintings for too long. Hurt and Peto felt more than a little edgy but their Uxzor kept moving back. One of the guides had come over and mistaking their discomfort for curiosity began to explain.

He pointed to the serpentine headed god, painted holding a staff that emanated what appeared to be rendered great magical power, the cloak this god wore were a riot of colours almost blinding in their intensity and the feathers that seemed to cover his neck and arms seemed to shimmer with colour that never seemed to stay one shade.

He was called, they were told Nekathara the lord of the past, present and future and that he rode the waves of power like a great master. All the mortals’ paths were connected to him in some way, shape or form.

The next fresco was a muscular built warrior naked from the waist up. His skin and hair were the colour of blood but that was hardly surprising given he was bathed in the stuff. Behind him sat a throne of skulls and at his feet rotting faces halfway between necrotic flesh and white bone.

They were told that this was Karnath; their god of war but the three agents saw there was more to this then war. He was stood surrounded by baying warriors decapitating women and children.

Beside that was a fresco of their lord of decay and death, he was a slender figure whose very touch brought death and decay; there were people around the feet of this warrior whose bodies were writhing with all manners of disease.

They were told that this was Daera the lord of decay and death, although they could see that for themselves.

The majority of the people in the gallery were gathered around a portrait of a beautiful man, beside him or was that conjoined to him, either way they were breath taking. The attendant was looking with rapture upon the painting and just muttered “Nasheba”.

“We need to go” Rukhsana felt like throwing up and when she got no answer from Hurt and Peto she looked up to see them staring with that same expression as the attendant on their face.

She grabbed them both and pulled them outside the gallery. Her stomach stopped whirling and they both shook their heads as if waking from some dream.

“Thank you Uxzor” Peto breathed, “What was that?”

“Some ancient power is in those portraits” She muttered, “I do not like what this means. Hurtado what are you looking at?”

He sat on the bottom step of the gallery and pulled them both down beside him. He said nothing until the men and women he had been looking at walked past and out of sight.

“Answer me one thing,” He muttered raising his head “If the Geno, and Alpha Legion; Blood Angels and Baal’s own forces are supposed to be the only ones here. What in the name of the throne is the Chemos intelligence doing here?”

Peto and Rukhsana glanced uneasily at each other, this could only mean one thing and that was not good. If the Chemos intelligence corps were here then that meant there was an Emperors Children presence but why did they not let the two Primarch's know they were here?

“We will follow” Rukhsana finally said, “I will shield us as best I can but remember boys my cept is not as strong as it once was”

They nodded knowing that was true, the power of the Uxzor burnt out when they hit thirty hence the need to train one of the young girls in their retinue. They followed their quarry at a distance but so intent were they on finding out what was going on that they forgot to check their backs.

They were surrounded and without a word being spoken beaten to the ground.

 

Omegon listened as Peto finished his account and glanced at his sergeant, “Time to recall Alpharius” He rested a hand on Petos shoulder “You have done well Peto, I will have you three transported back to the Alpha”

“Will Hurt and Rukhsana be OK?”

“They will my friend. Get some rest you have all done well”

Omegon nodded and let Apothecary Janus take his charges back to the ship. He turned to Forsch “What the hell are the Emperors Children doing here and why have they not let us know?”

“My lord, it could be that the guard were acting on their own accord. Sometimes guard do that”

“True my friend” Omegon nodded “but the Chemos Intelligence is never far from the Astartes. I had better let Sanguinius know and then deal with it from there.”

“My lord, Peto said the artwork had a strange effect on the Uxzor and both him and Hurtado, should we look into that?”

“No not at the moment, just let my brother knows what is going on and has the Alpha do a long range sweep, extending towards the outer system. I want to know if there is an Emperors Children vessel out there”

Forsch slammed his fist into his breastplate “For the Emperor” and turning on his heel he walked away to complete his lords request.

Omegon took a deep breath and walked back into the senate hall. When he told Sanguinius what had occurred the master of the Blood Angels set his jaw tight as he realised they had been played with.

“Time to up the ante then brother” The Angel narrowed his eyes and that in itself told Omegon that Sanguinius had lost his patience.

“No more games” Omegon agreed, “They have hidden the presence of another legion here and I would like to know why”

“Have our legions put on high alert and if there is an Emperors Children vessel in the area I want it found”

Omegon inclined his head a little “It shall be done”


	8. Chapter 8

Lucius watched as Lord Commander Verona took the full wrath of the Primarch, his head bowed as he knelt before the irate Fulgrim.

To watch his father in battle was an awesome sight as joyful as it was to watch Fulgrim stride the field of battle like the perfectly wrought war god that he was, his anger was something else.

Primarchs anger was a terrible thing to behold. It was akin to a violent tempest over the sea or such as was seen in the eye, there was nothing to placate it and with it came fear.

Lucius had seen the change in the Alpha Legion and Blood Angels and then he had heard the reports over the vox net. The Geno Five-Two was looking for members of the Chemos Third Intelligence.

As commander of the intelligence arm of the Astartes, Verona was responsible for their actions and he had offered no defence. It would not have done him any good anyway if he had, the mistake had been his and in allowing the third to go down and act as the eyes of the legion, in this tentative step towards the Emperors plans they had got ahead of themselves.

Lucian watched, his helm clamped firmly in place but his eyes never left his father’s irate pacing. Of all the Primarch's he was the embodiment of perfection. Perfection in war, perfection in what little peace there was and perfection in justice.

Beside him stood Saul Tarvitz and Captains Korander of the 37th Company and Dasara of the 25th Company. All with orders to keep the door to the stratagem shut and to witness the wrath of the Primarch as he dealt with failure.

Other Primarch's might have demoted the Lord Commander back to the ranks but that was not Fulgrims way, or at least not now it wasn't. He had ordered his vessel away from the system as soon as he had heard of the folly.

As it was that was just in time as scout vessels from both the Blood Angels and Alpha Legion began sweeping the system. Fulgrim knew that his brothers knew there was an Emperors Children Presence in the area and whilst he could easily explain away his presence as a visit to one of his closest brothers and one that he knew little about. He could not explain away the beating given to Alpharius's own Imperial Army detachment.

Lord Commander Eidolen and Lord Commander Vespasian both stood either side of the Primarch's throne, Captains Kerosian, Demeter and Varoisean stood before the throne. They, like the others were deemed members of Fulgrims Inner circle and the four captains who guarded the entrance were honoured and humbled to be included in the most private of circles within the Emperors Children.

Except that is Lucius who had expected this but he had asked the Primarch if Tarvitz could join him, as his oldest friend he thought it only right that Saul shared some of the glory.

Eidolen nodded curtly towards the captains and without a word Tarvitz and Lucius opened the doors allowing the Phoenix Guard to walk in the members of the Third Intelligence who had disrupted their fathers’ plans.

If Astartes cowered before the wrath of their fathers, the humans were another level altogether. It did not escape Saul’s or indeed anyone else’s nasal sensibilities that as the six humans set eyes on the infuriated god, their bladders and bowels excavated.

Fulgrim screwed his nose up in distaste and ordered the door shut and bolted once more. As angry as he was that his most carefully laid plans had gone to waste he was also testing his warriors.

Testing them to see if they could do as the Emperor was most explicit in his orders. He descended the throne, his face a mask of sheer anger and made his way towards the four captains.

Lucius he knew would carry out his orders. The other three he was not so certain off, of all the captains they had not yet been to see Lord Commander Bile.

“Saul” He stopped before the captain of the 10th company “Their actions went against all that we, as the Emperors Children hold dear. The tenements of my leadership of this perfectly wrought legion were ignored.”

Saul swallowed once, as always whenever his father addressed him, his tongue went dry, his two hearts beat furiously against his chest and his eyes lit up with the love and pride he felt for this giant of men.

Seemingly reading his mind Fulgrims anger faded to be replaced by a paternal smile. He rested both his hands on the pauldrons of his 10th Captain and lowered his head a little.

“Tell me Saul, why have you not visited my Lord Commander Apothecary?” Fulgrims voice was gentle now, but behind the paternal words there was anger there, simmering at the edge of the cadence.

“I have not yet had the time Sire” Saul replied “I have been running errands for my Lord Eidolen in case of boarding actions Sire”

“A wise move” Fulgrim nodded “but you will be going won't you? I have noticed you Saul”

And he had, this was a man of the ranks made good, easy with his command and one of the brothers in all that matters and yet he had the makings of something more, like Lucius but he had to be sure.

“As my father commands”

Saul bowed his head; unable to meet his father’s gaze anymore and like all Astartes in the presence of their gene-sire he could no longer hold those beautiful magnificent eyes.

“There I knew you would my son, as all my sons?” The other two captains bowed their heads and Fulgrim knew that he had them now. Not that there was any doubt whatsoever in his mind.

He returned to the cowering terrified mortals and didn't even look at them. He refocused his attention on Verona and drew his sword. At that gesture, Lucius, Saul, Korander and Dasara drew their swords.

 

“I will tolerate no deviation from my battle plans and I must make an example” Fulgrim held his hand under Verona's chin and raised it “You were one of my inner circle, you let them do this, they could not have acted without your say so. Know that I do this with a heavy heart my son”

Without another word and to Verona’s credit he did not scream or beg for mercy for there was none forthcoming; Fulgrim took his head in one clean stroke.

As his head hit the floor the humans began to beg and plead for their lives but it did not do them any good. The four swords of the four captains flashed in the air, cutting heads from necks cleanly, the blood splattered the wall and the floor.

The heads were to be put up on the deck reserved for the Chemos Third that way they would learn what happened to those who broke their masters’ laws. It would work too and fear of the wrath of the Phoenician would put pay to any words of descent amongst the mortal crews.

Fulgrim ordered the rest of the commanders of the mortal armies that accompanied them killed. Right across the fleet. Kerosian turned to Demeter and Varoisean.

“So it begins,” The First Captain sighed, “Better reinstate those officers and make sure they do as they are told.”

Lucius took his time cleaning the blood from his blade, he would pay a visit to that remembrancer later, and she would cure the boredom between now and their next theatre of war.


	9. Chapter 9

Cry havoc and let lose the dogs of war.

Brother Sergeant Darelian recalled that phrase from an old Terran book he had been leant once by Remembrancer Jarred Olina; at this moment in time it seemed most apt.

His father Sanguinius and his ‘uncle’ Alpharius had destroyed the ruling class of this world with their bare hands. According to the tale, the leader Ferrac had declared open hostility to the Primarchs accusing them of heresy of the highest order.

When one of the civilian rememberancers had been summarily executed before their horrified eyes that were it, all bets were off, that and the beating of three of Alpharius's own Imperial Army attachment by members of the Emperors Children's own mortal intelligence corps.

This was seen to be the last straw and with the death of the ruling elite the people rose up in open rebellion against the Astartes and it was the worst mistake they had ever made.

The Blood Angel led his men through the winding and maddening streets of Racas, despite having edict memories they occasionally seemed to get lost in the maze of streets.

His frustration grew as he heard the sounds of battle and yet could not seem to find a way out of this maze. Some of the streets were brightly decorated and it made even his conditioned mind spin looking upon them.

The ground beneath them rumbled and at first the ten-man squad believed it to be the sound of the Titans walking the earth. But what rose out of the earth was far from being the awesome footfalls of a Titan.

It was huge and monstrous coming from the earth like a leviathan roaring its ascent.  
The skin dripped blood almost constantly and the stench that rose from it was the scent of blood and ripped flesh. The skin was the colour of dried blood and it seemed to ripple with waves like an ocean.

Scales along its neck made it look well armoured and longer and yet the most horrific part of it was the body, it had the body of a man with hands so clawed and razor sharp that before any of the Blood Angels could react, those claws rendered across Brother Mardas cutting through his armour and straight into his chest cavity.

It pulled its massive hand back dripping with gore and blood and the two hearts in his hand. Brother Mardas seemed to sway for a moment or two then fell flat on his face,

Sergeant Darelian cursed in Baal heavily and rallied his squad, bolters crashed with explosive results against the abomination. Chunks of flesh ripped out and splattered on the floor and against the walls.

This thing was strong though and it roared in a language alien to the Astartes. Its jaw extended and lowered itself over the head of Brother Andreas then snapped shut and blood sprayed the other Astartes.

They roared their anger, their grief at the loss of a brother showed through in their ever-choleric moods. Darelian drew his sword, a gift from the Primarch himself and never leaving his side.

“FOR BAAL, FOR SANGUINIUS FOR THE EMPEROR!” he roared and leapt into the air.

The sword flashed down caught by the sun that seemed to be bathed in a red glow. The abomination raised its talons and impaled Darelian crushing his organs but not before the sword pierced the top of its head and ran straight through.

“Apothecary!”

 

Alpharius and Sanguinius strode together like enraged gods of the universe. To see them war together was a rare sight indeed for Alpharius very rarely warred with his own brothers, preferring the company of his twin and his legion alone.

To the Astartes following in their gene-sires wakes it was like watching Horus and Sanguinius once more. They destroyed all that they found, news of abominations and strange beings came over their vox's, Imperial Army and Astartes casualties stirring their paternal anger.

By the setting of the blood red sun, there was nothing left of Racas except a carnal house of great proportions.

“Burn it” Alpharius snarled, “Burn it all”

 

Lorgar listened as Fulgrim raged about how his plans had gone awry. The Urizen watched as his snow haired brother paced up and down like a caged beast. Lorgar had arrived a few days ago, at Fulgrims behest.

That was unusual as under normal circumstances Fulgrim would not have sought for Lorgars counselling, but these were hardly normal circumstances any more. Fulgrim had boarded the Kamiel without any entourage, his need personal.

Like the majority of his brothers who all had human mentors, the exceptions being Curze and Angron, Lorgar had kept his adoptive father with him.

The Lion for example, had ensured that Luther held a position within the Dark Angels but had never put him in Power Armour and had left him charge of their fortress on Caliban.

Rogal had kept his cloak from his adoptive grandfather as a remembrance of a man long dead; Horus had the Emperor as his guide and mentor. But of them all Lorgar had been the only one to have his adoptive father join the legion.

Fulgrim ceased his pacing and eyed the First Captain of the Word Bearers with suspicion. Lorgar always was fanatical about his beliefs but Kor Phaeron was more than even that. The only augmented human within the brothers almost human beginning to become an Astartes in name only.

Their father had named Lorgar the spiritual guide of his inner circle which no one had complained about, for Lorgar was in all honesty a spiritual man. He did not have the warrior blood of his brothers in any great amount but when it came to the crunch he could fight like any of them.

Fulgrim motioned with his head towards where a glowering Kor Phaeron stood just behind his Primarchs throne. Kor Phaeron did not agree with many other Primarchs and most of the time he did not agree with his own adoptive son, seeing him as a weaker version of what he had once been.

However he could see exactly why Angron and Fulgrim could not be in the same room with each other for too long. He found Fulgrim an irritating fop and he had no idea why his son would even want to respond to this drivel.

“Brother, I come to you for guidance” Fulgrim quietly spoke “Must my words be heard by one who is not a Primarch?”

Lorgar turned his head a moment and with a slight motion indicated that Kor Phaeron should leave.

“My lord...” The First Captain started to speak but was cut off abruptly by his Primarch.

“What is said between my brothers and I stay between my brothers and I Kor, please leave”

Kor Phaeron was not happy about it but he was oath bound to his lord and with a curt bow he left the Primarchs private sanctum. He paused outside the door and glared back at it for a moment, as if that alone would give him the insight into what was going on in there.

“Something wrong my lord?” The last word was heavily sarcastic.

He turned the scowl on his face becoming more intense as Bal Sangos the Captain of the sixth company and one of the Primarch's inner circle came to a halt before him.

Kor Phaeron despised the man before him, his good looks enhanced by the genes of the Urizen that had mingled with his own. During the Covenants fall, he had fought alongside Erebus and others, swayed by the power of the Urizens words.

The feeling was utterly mutual. Bal Sangos saw Kor Phaeron as a bitter old man who would not let go of the power he had shared before the coming of the Emperor, often the tall and brooding lord of the sixth had wondered what tricks Kor Phaeron had used to not only become augmented above normal humans but to become First Captain, a place that should by rights have gone to an Astartes.

Kor Phaeron swallowed his anger, “I do not trust Fulgrim” He murmured darkly, his rough voice grating like a permanent growl.

The Captain of the sixth company folded his massive arms across his chest “It is nothing to do with you why Lord Fulgrim is here First Captain” He sneered “Whether you trust him or not he is a Primarch and his words with our father is not for your ears”

Kor Phaeron clenched his gauntleted hands together; the lack of respect from this man was insufferable.

“I have no wish to listen you what you believe brother, I am the Urizens guidance on all matters and you will do well to remember that! I steered him to this moment not you, not Erebus and certainly not a dandy boy like Fulgrim”

Bal Sangos leant forward close to Kor Phaerons ear “You are nothing but a genetically enhanced human who thinks he is the be all and end all of the prophet of Colchis's world. The day the Emperor reclaimed his lost son is the day you lost any power over him Kor Phaeron.

I have to accept you as First Captain but I do not have to listen to your drivel, you are like a spoilt child who has had his toy taken from him”

“Careful what you say to me captain!”

“Is that a threat? Bal Sangos smirked a little “There will come a time first captain that your power will fade, the Emperor beloved by all has changed in ways that those legions who are not in his inner circle do not yet understand and his word is going to be the only one Lorgar will listen too.”

Bal Sangos kept the smirk across his handsome features as he inclined his head a little and walked away. Kor Phaeron snarled under his breath and stormed off.

 

Fulgrim ran a hand down his face and Lorgar let him compose himself before speaking. He had listened as Fulgrim had told him what had happened on Racas. His fury was incandescent and he was struggling visibly to not lose it once more.

“Fulgrim, brother” Lorgar got up and poured two goblets of wine, handing one to Fulgrim who noticed the Chemos label on it, “Humans think that they are aiding us when in fact they are hindering us. You are not to blame for the actions of the humans”

“My lord Commanders know better Lorgar” Fulgrim set his goblet down “how am I to show our father that my legion is behind him in this endeavour of his if my Lord Commanders start acting likes novitiates”

Lorgar sat back down and clasped his hands into a steeple and in the light of his room Fulgrim realised how like their father he was. The same dark eyes and hair, the only difference being that his face was always covered in gold paint.

His eyes lined in dark Kohl and it gave him a look of the ancient rulers of the Aegypts but whilst there were those who believed that Sanguinius was the most noble and Magnus the wisest of the Primarch's, Lorgar had his own wisdom a lot of which he had learnt from Magnus, his closest brother.

“Perhaps brother, when it comes to loyalties within our sons at a time like this we may need to make the harder choices. You dealt with the Lord Commander I assume?”

“Yes” Fulgrim nodded “and I dealt with the Chemos Intelligence Corps across the fleet. They could have cost us much. Lucius had a rapport with that world and they would have been a useful addition to the Imperium when its new legacy was revealed.”

Lorgar nodded in agreement, in a way Sanguinius and Alpharius warring together on Racas had solved some problems. But not all of them and that is what concerned Lorgar.

“Brother, what will you do if Sanguinius or Alpharius come to you demanding answers?”

Fulgrim shrugged “I will deal with it”

“It is said that one can never tell a lie to Sanguinius, that he would smell a lie a mile off”

Fulgrim sat forward “If that day comes and I am sure it will in time, I will deal with it. It is like Ancient Rylanor, none can lie to him and I would not stoop so low.”

Lorgar rubbed his temple with his thumb and forefinger. “I will not lie to you, father was not happy about what had occurred, however Magnus told him that sometimes even we Primarchs are always left to make the decisions.

So father has said there will come a time when all is set in motion that those who refuse to follow his path will be cast aside. Would you be able to do that Fulgrim? Even if it showed Eidolen, Vespasian, Kerosian, Demeter and Varoisean to be found wanting?”

Fulgrim arched an eyebrow and picked his wine goblet up once more. He sipped from it, savouring the flavour and vintage from his adopted home world and then met Lorgars intense gaze.

“Let me ask you this” He quietly retorted, “If it were Kor Phaeron, Erebus, Bal Sangos, or Angel Tal, would you?”

“If it was in detriment to fathers’ ascension in a heartbeat” Lorgar replied without hesitation and that scared Fulgrim a little.

That was not a feeling he was comfortable with but it made him look at Lorgar in a different way. No longer the weak theologist that some of his other brothers saw him as, but a warrior who would do whatever was necessary to ensure their fathers place in the universe.

It was almost a shame to continue the deception but this was not going to be done overnight and the Word Bearers enlightening the worlds they had conquered the way was being paved for just that.

“What would you advise?” Fulgrim asked.

“Use the warrior lodge that will give you an idea of who you can trust and who you will have to dispose of”

That sounded such a hard word to use but it was the only way to put it. He would have to start watching over his sons and even if they questioned his orders once then their fates would be sealed.

To the master of perfection there was nothing he would not do ensure his father’s perfectionist view of the future. Even if it meant those of his sons who would not follow him and his beloved father into the history of the universe did not see another day as a demi-god.


	10. Chapter 10

The huge promenades and esplanades of the Imperial Palace were their usual hive of activity. People coming and going hoping to catch a glimpse of the almighty Emperor of mankind.

Some people walked the massive continent spanning palace most of their lives without catching so much a glimpse of the mighty lord of the Imperium but his presence was still keenly felt.

Along the walls of the Palace itself stood his guards sentinel as ever and watching for any danger to their lord and master. Unlike the Astartes these sentinels were conditioned for one thing and one thing alone, to guard the Emperor against any and all threats.

They were the Dread Guardians, the Emperors Companions, the Adeptus Custodes and the ones responsible for the safety of their master of mankind. One such Custode was on watch over the mountains that had once been the roof of the world.

Unlike the other Custodes he did not share the view that what was going on was now the will of the Emperor. Husor had been a Custode for as long as he could remember and that was some time now, since before the unification wars.

Then it had been clear, there were no gods, there were no deities just the deeds that man him self could do him and him alone with no guiding other power. This is what he had preached and now, now he was turning his back on everything he had taught his sons, their sons and the people of the growing Imperium.

Rogal Dorn had snuffed out a world for holding an artefact that Lorgar Urillean and the Emperor wanted. The Lion interfering in Perturabos theatre of war, and now Fulgrim narrowly escaping detection by the Angel and the Specialist.

This was not how it was meant to be. He kept his gaze front and centre, not wavering in his duty but he did not fail to notice the Imperial Fists that were all dressed in Black and white moving amongst the thousands of people below.

That had been news to him, Lorgar and Dorn had been in conference for days and what had emerged was an of shoot of the Fists, calling themselves the Black Templars and led by Sigismund, if there was ever a group of fanatical religious zealots then they were it.

He thought the sons of Colchis were fanatical but the last few days the Black Templars had made them pale into minor zealots. Husor did not like this one little bit and he had sent word through a coded vox, carried as a piggyback message to Horus Lupercal.

However the message had never been sent, he had learnt that some of his brother Custodes had discovered the encrypted message although he suspected that was more to do with the spies that had been put in place just for this occurrence.

“Husor”

He turned and seeing who was standing behind him he knew that he was no longer for this world. Still he was a Custode and dutifully he moved to one knee in the presence of the master of mankind.

“My lord” He bowed his head.

“You know why I have come” it was not a question, there was very little that escaped the masters sight, natural or otherwise. Husor nodded, it would do not good to lie and besides he did not lie, he was a Custodes and he would die with honour, not pleading for his life like some terrified mortal soldier.

The Emperor beckoned him to stand and walk with him. He was alone and that surprised Husor, normally Valdor was with him wherever he went. The Custodes fell into step with his master.

“Why Husor, you who has 573 names to honour your victories in my name, why have you chosen to betray me like this?”

“I do not agree with what you are doing lord” Husor explained “I do not want to believe in a god or gods that is, as you preached before, not the way for man. Is that not what you said to that old priest before we burnt his church to the ground?”

The Emperor chuckled a little and leant on the paraphit of one section of his mighty home. He had to admit Husor was one of his best after Valdor and Amon. Husor Constanzos was the name he was known as and when he sparred in the training halls he would spar with Valdor.

There were none with Amon and Valdor being the exceptions that were better with the Gladius or the Guardian Spear.

“I cannot allow Horus or the others to know what I am planning until I am ready for them to know Husor”

“My duty is to you first my emperor but not at the cost of a road that will always lead to darkness. These beings are scared of you so they have convinced you that to be their equal you must become one of them...what has possessed you!”

The Emperor turned and his face lost its calm fatherly expression that it had had while talking with Husor. He had ensured that the Custodes had their own minds and unlike their cousins in the Astartes they were individually minded but this, this was not what he wanted.

“I am protecting the Imperium that I have created with my bare hands and the skills of my sons and grandsons!” He seethed “I am the Emperor of Mankind how you dare question me!”

Husor did not even flinch from his masters wrath instead calmly and clearly he said “Once upon a time my lord, you welcomed me questioning you. Now you allow none to question you and you allow Dorn to create a second chapter of fanatics as if we do not have enough with Lorgar Urillean and his sons”

“Do not make me kill you Husor” The Emperor quietly spoke his voice hiding the anger he was feeling right now.

“That is what you are here to do is it not? I tried to warn Horus Lupercal and you know that or else you would not be here. So if you are going to kill me then do so, because I no longer wish to be part of this new world that you are creating.

I have no wish to see Terra enslaved to the laughter of thirsting gods and the delusions of one who preached one thing and now goes back on all he said. You said yourself that religion was the bane of man’s existence, your sons are bringing worlds into illumination only for the deaths of their brothers to be turned into nothing.”

The Emperor moved towards him and removed Husors helmet to reveal a dark complexion, a native of the Afrycas he had intense blue eyes and would not be moved from his convictions.

“I am sorry you feel the need to question my designs my son but the fact that you have held onto your beliefs makes you the strongest of them all. Your like will never be known again”

Husor felt a pain the likes of which he had never known before, the mental guards he had to ward of the psychic attacks began to crumble away and then were torn away. He slipped to his knees blood falling from his eyes, his nose and his ears as vessels burst in sickening synchronization.

He raised his head to look his former master in the eyes “You will be denied, you will not put this world into the hands of beings that know only murder, portents, disease and hedonism”

The Emperor however was unmoved and as Husors life blood fed through every pore in his body the only thing the dying Custode could do was laugh. He was leaving this world and leaving what it would become behind.

He had no wish to fight this war and had no wish to follow a man that was now intent on becoming that which he despised.

His honour was intact.

 

The Storm bird came into the belly of the Vengeful Spirit and came to a smooth stop. Loken and Little Horus looked at the markings on the side of the craft and, like all the legions that were not off this one, grew wary.

Horus had sent a welcome request to the Thousand Sons when the Photep had come screaming from the warp like the demons of that blighted place were on its heels itself.  
He had charged Loken and Aximand with the honour guard and welcoming committee, as he had to deal with a troubling message from Perturabo.

He did not however tell them who was about to board their vessel.

First down the ramp in their red and silver edged armour was Ahriman and Amon followed by a small retinue of the Sekhmet but even that was not it all. Little Horus was about to greet his cousins when a presence filled the hanger bay and had all who was working in there moving to their knees.

Down the ramp came the Crimson King himself, his skin a red hue with a long flowing dark red mane certainly gave credence to his name. He was also known by the less flattering name of Cyclops, but that was due to his one eye that seemed to change colour depending on his mood and at the moment from what Little Horus could tell as he lowered himself to one knee beside the already kneeling Loken, was that it was a sad looking blue.

The Primarch of the Thousand Sons stood before the two Mournival Captains and bid them rise. Aximand had met the Crimson King before this was Lokens first time.

He not only sensed the natural power that infused a Primarch but the full mental control this mighty god had with the psyker powers. Whilst there were those in other legion’s that derided the Thousand Sons Father for his mastery over the powers of the warp what the majority did agree on, was that he was the wisest of them all.

Magnus had a wisdom that went far beyond his years and some of his brothers found his council quite refreshing. The two Luna Wolves got to their feet and moved either side of the Primarch as they walked with him to Horus’s private Stratagem.

Magnus said nothing and let the two captains lead him to his brother but Ahriman and Amon did not like what was going through their fathers mind. He had barely rested since he had demanded that the Photep make full haste for the Vengeful Spirit.

He had been pacing in his private chambers. Reading the runes and the tarot and each time it had come out the same. His dreams had spoken true. His father had summoned him to Terra but he had ignored the call.

There was something wrong here, very wrong and he had to let Horus know so he had sent a message via Astropaths, not daring to do it himself less he kill the Astropathic choir of the Vengeful Spirit with the intensity of his request.

Loken had heard many tales regarding the Crimson King but none of them had even come close to his intellect and his majesty. Even the rememberancers that were assigned to the Thousand Sons and their fleet could not even begin to convey the true spirit of the master of Prospero.

They entered the Warmasters stratagem and bowed their heads, the Thousand Sons with their father bowed deeply. Horus as ever told them honour was done and moved towards Magnus.

Horus was not as close to Magnus as perhaps Lorgar was and although he understood that Magnus was a fountain of power and knowledge, he was well aware that his brother was probably teetering on the edge of darkness; if it were any lesser figure of a man then he might have slipped over centuries ago.

He brought Magnus into a hug and then stepped back, Loken and Little Horus joined Ahriman and Amon, and the Sekhmet had remained with the Storm bird. Leaving the two Primarchs to their discussion.

 

Horus listened as Magnus told him what had occurred to the world of Venus IX and what he had seen in the warp. Had it been anyone else telling him this then Horus might have put it down to hysteria but there was nothing hysterical about Magnus, which was as alien an emotion to him as it was to all his brothers.

Horus perched on the edge of his desk and rubbed his chin “I would have dismissed this you know Magnus, were it not for the fact Alpharius, Sanguinius and Perturabo have also got reports of similar disturbing tales.”

“Horus, brother of brothers” Magnus began “None of us is as close to our father as you are but our father has changed. I do not lie to you”

Horus stood up and rested a hand on Magnus’s shoulder “Perturabo, Sanguinius and Alpharius are on the way here we will then head planet side to Jarrod and discuss this situation.

I might need your gifts to protect us from scrying eyes.”

Magnus nodded “I hope I am wrong brother”

“So do I brother…now come relax and let your sons enjoy the hospitality of the Mournival and let us talk of other things for the moment.”

Loken took that as the cue to leave. But he, like his brother and cousins had heard enough to know that there was something foetid in the air. More so because just after they had left the chambers a closed vox message came from the warmaster to Loken, he was to take 10th company along with Abaddon and 1st company and head to Venus IX.

Their mission was to discover what the hell had happened there and as a concession to his brother they were to be accompanied by the 1st company of the Thousand Sons. Loken met up with Abaddon soon after, their brothers swore their oaths of moments and they departed for the Photep, as guests of Ahriman the Lunar Wolves were going to see what exactly had happened.


	11. Chapter 11

Corporal Kerman Murat rubbed the back of his neck and once again cursed his luck that he was put on watch in the most inhospitable part of the patrol route. There were biting insects around here that were the size of a man’s finger and although not poisonous could give a nasty bite.

For ten years now ever since the Night Lords had brought the world into compliance he and his regiment, The Jaran 31st infantry had been stationed here ever since to ensure the loyalty of the populace.

Not that there were many of the populous left in terms of a planet. The citizens of Morsai had been smashed into compliance and had taken the surrender terms that the mighty lord of the night had offered them.

Which were no terms really. The Night Lords had slaughtered over five million people. Then before even the Generals eyes had executed the ruling elite and their families. Murat shivered as he recalled the Generals face when he returned to tell them that they were to remain here and he was the governor in the name of the mighty master of mankind.

He had been nicknamed Iron Horse by his men, an affectionate name that had followed him since the Night Lords had taken the world of Gargas Nine from the Orks. Unlike some command officers of other units of the Imperial Army, he led by example and would never send a soldier to do something that he would not do himself.

But he had changed that day.

The brutality of the Night Lords was well known. Having come from the night world of Nostramo Quintus and the harsh realities of that world ensured that the Astartes of the VIII legion were violent and lived by fear.  
There was no question about that; they seemed to live on the emotion, feeding off it like some drug. Iron Horse had understood that when the Astartes warred then there was no holding back, that it was brutal and it was bloody.

But this had even shocked him and a few days later Murat’s Sergeant had relayed what had occurred that evening.

The First Captain Sevatar had rounded up the families of the senate house, husbands, wives and children and before their loved ones eyes he had executed each and every one of them, the children mercifully were quick even the Night Lords were not that debased.

Still it was the cries of the children and the mothers that hit Iron Horse. He had tried to reason with the Primarch said that this was a mistake and that they would hate us for eternity.

The tombstone faced Konrad Curze did not listen and when he turned his dark eyes onto Iron Horse, the General bowed his head and backed down. No one knew what the old man had seen in those eyes but it had stayed with him.

When the Primarch himself slaughtered the adults it was bloody and with those that still survived he carved them open and hung them up high for the carrion of this world to feed off.

“They will learn that to serve the Imperium also means to fear its justice Iron Horse” Curze had said to him “You will remain with your regiment, to teach that lesson to those that think they can avenge this day.”

Normally the old man would have balked at the thought of not being in any more battlefields but somehow this single event had lost his taste for it and he had agreed.

Murat rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. Four hours till dawn and four hours till he could go see Private Latisha. There were some perks to being stationed here and for the first time in his thirty-five years he was actually thinking of settling down.

Things had changed drastically, the first five years had been hard getting the populace to comply and for a few weeks after he took over he had left the bodies of the dead as a reminder to what the Primarch and his sons could do.

Those had been the only orders Curze had left before leaving the world to continue his crusade. Eventually Governor Iron Horse had them taken down and returned to their families.

He had done his duty and yet he had changed in that the Emperor sanctioned these actions. He could not believe that the Night Lords were allowed to commit such acts and have no repercussions.

Eventually he had come to the way of thinking that the Astartes were nothing more than murderers in the name of the Emperor. That the worlds that did not want to come into compliance were murdered completely and every act he had committed in the name of the Crusade he felt sickened by.

He had ordered his men to attend the talks of the locals, to assimilate themselves into the population and become part of it. He encouraged relationships but the populace had not forgotten what had happened and it had not been easy. Especially when the tax collectors sent word on what the tithe was to be from this world.

Iron Horse had raged about that for days and had told the tax officer, a narrow faced man by the name of Tarquinii Jarod that this was unacceptable, it was going to take at least five years to get the production plants moving again and another ten years before they could get the quota moving.

The world of Mortai was rich in minerals, and the moneymaking wheels of the Imperium were eager to get going. He had been indifferent to the problems of remoulding a world after compliance and only that it was his duty to the Emperor of Mankind to ensure that this happened.

Iron Horse had been so incensed he took his las-pistol and shot the man through the head before the stunned retinue then he turned it on them and when their bloody bodies had made enough of a mess on his floor he ordered that they be taken then turning he tore the Aquila that sat on his back wall down.

The down trodden populace suddenly became more animated and ever since then things had been easier for the garrison but Murat was sure that news of their turning from the Imperium would have its consequences and although he hated this watch he was on alert.

He was ready to defend his home but from what he was not sure of yet, just that eventually whatever the Emperor decided they would know about it.

 

The Eye of Nostramo translated into the Mortai system and with the flexes of the immaterial still coming off its sleek and dangerous body it was followed by several other vessels.

The bridge of the great battle barge hummed with activity and, like most of the Night Lords vessels were darkened to such a level that it might as well have been eternal night on the vessel.

The bridge was dominated by the presence of the being in the centre of the command throne. His face was like tombstone granite, his eyes black and soulless but they were fixed on the planet below the view screen with a mix of anger and a little admiration.

When word had reached him that the planet had gone from the Imperiums light his father had charged him with punishment. A job that he had relished as he had felt slighted by a trusted mortal who had chosen to turn his back on the Emperor and in effect on him.

“What do you suppose my lord caused Iron Horse to act like this?” His Equerry Shand asked him.

Curze sat on his throne and steeped his pale hands to his chin “Probably still living with what I did here to those mortals before he took over”

The Primarchs voice was like he had swallowed razor blades always grating and always teetering on the edge of violence.

“Even so my lord Iron Horse was a loyal warrior”

“It matters not Shand, we brought this world into my father’s light and we shall deal with it. Ready the drop pods as soon as darkness falls we will make planet fall”

“No terms for surrender my lord?”

Curze turned his dark gaze on his Equerry, the smile that crossed his thin bloodless lips made even the Astartes shiver “No, we will wipe the people from this world off the face of the universe. They will be a lesson to that any world we have complied will suffer the same fate if they step out of line.”

Shand bowed and went to carry out his father’s orders and Curze went back to glaring at the view screen.


	12. Chapter 12

The communications tower went from day shift lighting to night shift lighting. Corinda Kelson stretched in her chair and read through the reports of the day watch officer, nothing to report, the odd communiqué from one of the other cities requesting audiences with the governor.

Ever since he had broken from the cruel taxation of the Imperium she and others had fallen for he had become quite a celebrity. She had been the communication officer directly under old Iron Horse. The Jaran 31st had lived for the Emperor; many of its soldiers were in different fields of battle fighting in the name of the Emperor and the growing Imperium.

They had no idea what would happen, the greed of the tax offices was more than that, the greed of the machines of the Imperium. She rubbed her head a little as the headache started.

She sipped her caffeine and closed her eyes a little station nine-seven, the Astropathic station had gone quiet and although that was not a disaster it wasn’t good. The master of the choir was unreachable too.

“Mistress, station eight-sixteen has gone off line,” a young Mortai woman by the name of Canila spoke up.

She cursed her luck and ordered a sweep of the system, to scan in particular for the solar storm that would affect the auspex’s.

It wasn’t a solar storm, but on by one the other stations went off line. Corinda ordered a scan for any vessels trying to think what could be taking out her other stations so cleanly. She got her answer.

“People of Mortai”

She felt the colour drain from her face as the voice came over the station communications. She had not heard that growling voice for years and now she swallowed. The people around her those that had been part of the old regiment began to shake in their seats as the voice, that voice brought their ultimate doom.

The natives of the world that worked here saw once again the horrors inflicted upon the former ruling elite and their families. That is what his voice was designed to do, to return everyone that had witnessed his justice to that state of fear.

“For crimes against the Emperor of mankind and his rightful agents”

The voice paused and as he said the last bit Corinda finally saw the vessel come out of the shadow of the moon and aim its guns directly at her and her staff.

“We have come for you”

There were sparks of fire and the communications tower went up in flames, with the destruction of the tower the Primarch moved to his drop pod and with his sons descended to the planet below.

 

Corporal Murat sat on the porch of the home he shared with his partner Latisha, a glass of the native spirit Ungas in his hand. Some of his friends had compared it to Scotch but it was far more potent than that and if you weren’t careful you would get so shit faced you could be lost in the feeling for days.

And that could get you in serious Dutch with the company Sergeant Major the next day.

Latisha rested her arms around his knees and looked up at the night sky. She smiled at the lights that trailed through the night sky, they were beautiful and she called her loves attention to them.

He glanced up where she was pointing. “The Meteor storm is spectacular tonight” She smiled “Good luck for us”

He watched and followed the trail; they were not meteors, meteors burnt up in the atmosphere unless one was big enough to cause problems. He moved her arms and getting up ran into the home they shared.

He came back with his binoculars and peered into the trails. He swore violently and loudly and grabbed Latisha.

“We have to leave NOW,” He told her.

“Why? Kerman what is going on?” She demanded shaking his arm off her.

“If we do not leave now then we are dead!” He pointed to the lights “They are not meteors they are drop pods. Drop pods carry Astartes, those Astartes will be the Night Lords, now do you really need me to explain what will happen if they catch us here?”

The scowl left the woman’s face as memories rose in her mind, the memories of what had happened to her people when those monsters had conquered her world. She grabbed her rifle and walked back into the house.

“Latisha where are you going?” Murat demanded.

“To fight for my home” She called over her shoulder.

He stopped her but could see the determination in her face. He nodded, it would do no good running anyway, and they would find them all. If the Astartes ground warriors did not then the Raptors certainly would and he really did not want to be brought before Lord Curze.

“OK then” He sighed and joined her side “We all have to die sometimes.”

 

The moment those words from the depths of man’s worst nightmare was broadcast planet wide, panic broke out on the streets of the capital city. The Jaran 31st had trouble keeping order as homes were looted and places of business were ransacked.

The people of this world had already been on the receiving end of Night Lord Justice and this was not something they wanted to repeat again.  
Iron Horse put his cap on and turned to his second-in-command Major Porlenski and saluted him.

“They will destroy this world, you know that don’t you Major?”

“I doubt they will do that Sir” The Major corrected, “This world is rich in minerals, they will however destroy all who live here and then leave what is left for the Mechanicum”

Iron Horse nodded sadly “That is the way of the world now Major, if they are lucky the Nostramo bastards might take them into indentured service”

“I doubt that sir, Lord Curze does not believe in second chances” The Major saw no reason to cotton ball the old man, he was well aware of their fate and it was not going to be as slaves. “You know what he will do to us”

Iron Horse nodded. He did not need telling twice what would happen to him and his men and women. He looked around his office one last time “The Astropathic Choir?”

“All dead sir but your message was sent before they went silent”

“Won’t do much good by the time the Ultimate Warrior and his sons get here we will be but a footnote as the victims of the Master of Fear. Come old friend let’s make sure we at least take some of those bastards with us”

The Major held his hand out and Iron Horse grasped it “It has been an honour to serve with you”

“The honour is mine Major…lets go make the Jaran 31st last stand memorable.”

 

The outlying towns fell in rapid and bloody succession. The Raptors screamed down from the skies, their bolters firing as they came cutting through fleeing bodies, bodies exploded sending brains and blood over the once pristine streets.

Captain Vesos of the third Raptor Company roared as he followed a group of townsfolk down a narrow street.

“This is what happens to traitors”

His voice came out more like a screech and he did that to ensure the fear ran high in them, he was right because that is all they felt. They had seen what these monsters that were midnight clad were doing to the people of their town and they wanted to escape.

“Everyone move!”

They moved as Corporal Murat and his squad raised their rifles and fired at the pursing Raptor. The bullets dented off the blessed armour but it gave Vesos something to smile about, at last there was prey worthy of his time.

They may only have been mortal but they had the balls to fight. To honour their misplaced bravery he would make their deaths quick. It was the least he could do.

As he came at the leader, a Corporal whose face he recalled as being one who had been assigned to his own mortal Imperial Army attachment. The Corporal smiled thinly and raised his rocket launcher.

But it was little too late and before he could depress the trigger he was rammed through with a pair of taloned gauntlets, blood came in an arc from his mouth covering the visor of the Raptors face plant.

A laugh echoed from what sounded like hells inferno itself. “You are lucky Corporal I am giving you a death quicker than what will happen to your fabled Iron Horse”

Murat heard his lover’s voice cry out as she saw the Astartes pull his arm from Murat’s ruined chest. Vesos heard the woman’s cry and nodded in her direction “Had you not betrayed Lord Curze you would have had a happier life.”

“You have no idea what you did to my commander” Murat spat “So send me to hell Night Lord I really do not care”

Vesos shook his head and what sounded like disappointment emerged from his vox-grill.

“I really liked you corporal” He raised his gauntlet and with a swift action he took the head from the soldiers body.

He lay him down on the ground and rest the head by the side of his legs, a ritual from his ganger days that he had never forgotten and had used it as his own signature so that the other Night Lords would know that it was his kill.

Murat was a traitor hence what the head was at the side of his legs and not by the remnants of the neck. But he had fought with honour and even the moody captain of the 4th Company Raptors recognised that he had dared to face the embodiment of fear and that meant he deserved. Something.

Vesos moved to ground level and walked through the other soldiers cutting them down like they were twigs on a dying tree. They would not be afforded the same honour and he cut them down like the traitors they were.

He was joined by his favoured Sergeant Kelaz and pointed at the woman and the other few towns’ folk that had survived.

“Take them to the Eye of Nostramo.”

“Are we not to kill them lord?” Kelaz asked.

“Not these ones.” He stared intently at their bellies “we will need new warriors one day and I like the spirit of her and her former mate, it is my right as leader of this group to choose what I do with them.”

Kelaz nodded roughly once and started moving them out Latisha glared at him and went to strike him but he caught her arm.

“Is death what you want woman? Think about the child that grows in you!”

“I will make sure that he grows to hate you!”

Vesos laughed a little “That is what I am counting on”

 

If the people of Mortai thought they had felt the justice of the Night Lords once before then they were very much mistaken.

Those that were deemed god enough to become slaves to the legion were taken kicking and screaming, the rest were killed in ways that had made the compliance battle look like a walk in the park.

Konrad Curze was in no mood to pussy foot about. He had been dishonoured and obviously his warnings about what had happened to worlds that had not fallen into line had not been heeded and for every warrior of the Jaran 31st that he came across he made their deaths excruciatingly slow and painful.

Their fear of him had returned but they had used it to fight against him and the Primarch had to grudgingly give them respect for that. To turn his or her own fear into courage to face the master of fears himself.

He cut down warriors brutally his sons following him; bolter fire crashed into warm bodies and mashed them to a bloody pulp. Chainsaws rose up and down sending goblets of meat flying into the air.

Some of the more sadistic members of the legion would run chain swords across bodies but not enough to kill quickly; there were many soldiers and citizens that staggered around trying to hold their guts in as they died slowly and painfully.

There were some victories. The Anti-aircraft guns boomed into the night sky and brought down three Storm bird, their exploding death rolls bringing cheers from the gunners. It would not last.

The one they called the Axemaster, Captain Krieg Acerbus and his third company warriors mounted the walls climbing the effortlessly, the Axemaster raised his blooded axe high into the air and roared in Nostraman.

“For the Night Haunter, for the Emperor let none of these traitors stand!” And in gothic he deepened his voice so that when it came out the vox grill it sounded like a demon “We have come for you!”

Las fire bounced harmlessly off the midnight clad warrior’s krak grenades did nothing but cause them to halt for a moment and then continue walking. Power axes cleaved bodies in two, heads fell in succession and the commanders of the gunnery crews were given the worst fate.

Under the Axemasters orders the commanders were strung up and then cut down the middle. They then had their ribs torn open and hung like perverse angels. Some mercifully died straight off from shock force trauma but some did not and when the Astartes moved on to continue their father’s orders their moans for mercy fell on deaf ears.

 

Iron Horse stood on the steps leading to the governor’s palace. The remains of his army around him shielding those lucky enough to have escaped the carnage. He took a long swallow of Amasec and in a stern voice commended his men and women for their bravery.

There would be no rescue and no fair hearing he was going to die here but by the fates he was going to die like a man.

The Night Lords advanced but did not fire, their bolters raised but they followed their father and despite what he had felt. Seeing the Primarch caused a rumble of trepidation in all his warriors.

This was no residue feeling, this was what happened when a mortal came into the presence of a god and some of his warriors despite their courage soiled themselves as the skull shaped helm stopped before them.

There would be no promises of surrender that is not how the Night Haunter worked. They had betrayed him and when he was done here he would leave it for the Mechanicus to call their own.

Iron Horse took his sword and alone went to face the Primarch, his knees trembled but he forced them to move and for the moment even the grim faced master of Nostramo admired the mortals’ courage.

“Will you not plead for the lives of your forces?” He rumbled, “I can smell their fear and their wish to live is pathetically potent”

The General held his head high and with no small amount of courage looked the master of fear in the eyes of his red lensed helm.

“Mortals always fear Astartes” Iron Horse replied with no tremor in his voice “and they fear Primarchs more than they fear Astartes”

What sounded like a chuckle emerged from the helm and Curze reached up and took it off with a hiss and handed it to Sevatar.

“The world of Mortai and the citizens of Morsai have fought well but you know that I will not leave you alive. My father was most explicit on those orders. You killed one of his legitimate officers to not pay the tithe due to him”

“The tax man would not listen” Iron Horse replied “My job is to ensure things roll smoothly and his demands would have made it impossible”

“I must admit Iron Horse, I have no love for those grubby little money collectors but what you have done is punishable in only one way”

“Then do it Curze of Nostramo,” Iron Horse stepped back and raised his sword “I am done with the barbarity and butchery of this so called Imperium”

Iron Horse might have swayed his survival but his indifference to the Primarch, his lack of respect incensed the Primarch who flexed his talons once and with a move that no one, not even his sons saw coming he drove them through the General and then with a back hand he took the head clean off the shoulders.

The killing of their beloved commander caused the warriors of the Jaran 31st to open fire.  
It did no good and at the command of their father, the First Company moved in and amongst the soldiers.

After twenty minutes the former Imperial Army unit and the surviving citizens were dead The Night Lords departed and by dawn they were gone.

 

The handsome giant stood in shock at the bodies that were littered around. The pyres still burnt and the stench of human flesh was almost unbearable even to one such as him.

“My lord…Curze has crossed the line this time.” Sergeant Achillion of the First Company did not even bother hiding his horror at the scenes around him.

Reports had come in since the Ultramarines had made planet fall some hours ago. Roboute Gulliman could only nod in agreement.

He knew that his isolated and driven brother was seen as the justice arm of their father but even this was a step too far. He had sent a communiqué to the Imperial Palace but it had been met with dismissal.

This was not in the spirit of the great crusade and this was not what Astartes were created for, this wanton slaughter and destruction was what lesser races did not Astartes.

“I will go see Curze for myself” the Primarch seethed “I will have answers for this”

 

The Photep screamed from the warp and began to slow as it came towards Venus IX. Abaddon stood behind the vox officer who was right now trying to hail the star port.

“This is The Photep, requesting permission to anchor” she set her hear piece down and turned in her seat, the shock briefly showed on her face when she realised it was the First Captain of the Luna Wolves behind her and not Master Ingrea.

“Still no word?”

Abaddons voice as ever sounded like a bottomless pit and as she lowered her gaze in deference to the Astartes she wondered if it was true that Abaddon really was Horus’s son in the full sense of the word.

“No my lord” She replied “All channels are silent and they should be hearing us, would you like me to keep trying lord?” She asked.

“No….” He glanced at her name badge “Commander Axra” He clasped his hands behind his back and cast a worrying eye towards both Loken and Ahriman “Have all Astartes report to their Storm bird”

His expression was granite but as Venus IX came into view the devastation that surrounded the dead world was evident.

“By the great spire” Ahriman whispered.

“Oh Terra” Loken muttered.

The rest of the bridge crew murmured several oaths of their own and some made the sign of the Aquila. Chunks of space debris floated past, caught in the planets gravity well and would spin with the once beautiful world until their enforced orbit degradation and would plummet through the atmosphere to the world below.

Bodies floated in the void and the three Astartes Lords could only stare in horror at the damage wrought. Whoever had attacked had taken out the orbital defences and traders docks.

“This was done first” Loken shook off his astonishment and got back to business “They did not want any survivors to tell the tale.”

“It could have been the Eldar” Abaddon mused.

“Or the Orcs” Ahriman offered “but then the Orcs would have taken the ships for their own and used them for something else”

“We won’t know the full story until we get planet side”

Loken sighed and turned to the Thousand Sons First Captain who he was also aware was the Chief Librarian, Commander of the elite Sekhmet and the leader of the Corvidae. His Precognitive powers were well known and despite his unease at the powers that were inherent within the Thousand Sons he was also aware that to have them on your side was not bad thing.

“Does your Lord know what happened here or who attacked?”

Ahriman was silent for a long while and when he replied it sent shivers of cold down both Luna Wolves spines.

“My father confided in me and me alone on this matter. At the time this world died he was dreaming and their cries burst into his dreams. He believes that the Imperial Fists did this”

Loken moved his head back a deep scowl on his face; he could not and would not believe that the man who had endorsed him as a member of the Mournival had committed planet side genocide.

He was the Emperors Champion, the Praetorian of Terra this was not what he had expected to hear.

Abaddon uttered a growl under his breath “No disrespect to your Lord Ahzek” he snarled “If you had said Angron or Russ or even Curze I might believe it but Dorn? I think maybe Lord Magnus is confused”

“I had those thoughts as well cousin but my father is insistent that it was the sons of Dorn” Ahriman insisted.

“We better get planet side” Loken insisted and without another word the three captains made their way to their Storm bird and descended to the planet below.

 

If the debris in space gave them cause for concern then what was left of the world they now stood on sickened them. Even the usually unshakable Abaddon could barely believe what his eyes were telling him.

The Imperial Fists had brought Venus IX into compliance. He had seen his father’s face when the news had reached him and that this was the first world that the Fists had taken without a shot being fired.

So impressed was the Emperor that he named Venus IX not only a world of outstanding beauty but also a world of recruitment for the Imperial Fists. Abaddon knew that reason and was pleased for them. The Fists did not have a home world parse like the Wolves or the Rout or indeed with the exception of the World Eaters, every other legion.

They had recruited from Terra or Inwit but that decree allowed the Fists to recruit from Venus IX when they needed to. To the best of Abaddons knowledge that had occurred three times over the last two hundred years.

He had read about this world. He knew that the tribes on the far continent Aphos were not as well to do as the ones on this continent Athara and they were slightly more savage then their cousins but, the Fists did what they did best and took the best from both cultures and turned them into Sons of Dorn.

And yet as he stared around at the devastation before him he began to believe that those same golden giants, the Praetorians of the Emperor himself had warred here. Although he wanted to believe there was a rebellion or something else nothing he or Loken or indeed Ahriman observed could justify this.

The bones of the dead littered the once pristine streets, bleached white but not by the sun, Loken knew that this was not from the sun, although it was extremely hot he knew that cyclone bombs had been dropped here.

“Why?” was all he could think to say before his duty as a Captain of the Lunar Wolves took over.

He cleared his throat a little and looked around “Tenth form up on me,” He turned to Abaddon “We’ll check out Dorn Gardens, it is where Dorn first set foot here and I believe where they held their tournaments for recruitment”

Abaddon nodded and watched his brother walk off. Sometimes he felt a little envious at Loken. Ever since he had become an Astartes, Ezekiel Abaddon had lost touch with whatever humanity he had once had but Loken, Garvial Loken still had that flame of what he had once been within his breast.

That was why when it came to dealing with the Rememberancers Horus left him to deal with any problems that might arise, a job that Loken had proved remarkably efficient at when it came to keeping them away from the Warmaster.

Ahriman turned to the First Captain of the Lunar Wolves and bowed his head a little more in respect for his reputation then his rank.

“With you agreement cousin, I will take my warriors and look around the ruins of the government building.”

Abaddon was about to ask what good that would do when he checked himself. He was talking to a Thousand Son and not any Thousand Son but their First Captain, or the equivalent off anyway.

He never did understand the different branches of the Thousand Sons any more than he did any other Legion that had different names for different companies.

“What are you hoping to find cousin?” He asked

“Anything that might give us an idea as to why this happened”

“You mean why the Fists did this?” Abaddon corrected.

“I was – reluctant to mention that again Ezekiel”

“Ahzek, we may have to face up to the fact that what we do not want to believe has occurred. My only concern would be this, what do I tell the Warmaster if it turns out one of his closest brothers committed genocide for no apparent reason?”

Ahriman nodded briskly and with his men walked towards the shattered buildings, Falkus Kibre joined his Captain and scratched his ear “Your orders Ezekiel?”

“Garvi is going to the training grounds, the witch is going to the buildings so we check out where the barracks and around there”

“The barracks?” The Widow maker seemed a bit confused.

“The barracks my brother, I want to know why there are no signs of the Imperial Army that was left here or the planetary PDF”

 

Lokens feet crunched down on a skull and as he looked down he could see that it was a skull of a child. He cursed softly under his breath and then realised what he and his chosen of Tenth Company were actually walking on.

Since their Captains elevation to the Mournival some months before the Tenth were raised in esteem on a par with First, Second and Third Companies. They also were so tuned into their beloved Captain that when he stopped dead and saw the sea of bones that lay in some macabre carpet across the floor they too were stunned by what they witnessed.

“By the hand of the ship” Vipus invoked the chant that the Lunar Wolves used when they were edgy or needed extra reserves. Normally Loken dismissed it as inappropriate in certain situations.

He sensed that it was a sigh of humours and choleric imbalance and he would react accordingly but not at the moment if the truth be told he wished for the hand of the ship himself.

As the Astartes made their way through the ocean of bones Jerus, his Apothecary, called Loken. He made his way over wincing as he stepped on more bones and feeling them crush underfoot.

“Jerus?” he crouched down beside the Apothecary.

Jerus was Terran born and from the deserts of Mercia. He was not C’thonian born and yet he had the heart of one and that was what made him so popular amongst the Wolves and not just the Tenth.

He spoke as he saw it and saw no need to flower words when the truth was better no matter how harsh the truth was. He lifted a skull gently despite his huge hands and the narthicum attached to the wrist.

“Garvi they were killed by bolter fire” He motioned to the gaping hole in the front and back of the skull “This unfortunate soul was shot as they tried to escape.”

Loken removed his helm and met Jerus eye to eye “Are you telling me they were executed?”

Jerus lay the skull down and nodded grimly “Aye Captain that is exactly what I am telling you”

Loken ran his hand through his hair and scratched the top of his head. He did not know what to say, this was unprecedented, and at least for the Fists it was, they could be as terrible as any other Astartes but this…. Well this he would have expected from the World Eaters or the Night Lords but not the Imperial Fists.

“Captain Do we continue?” He didn’t look at Vipus but nodded “The Warmaster will need a complete assessment” Loken got to his feet and they all followed him.

But somehow his treads became a little heavier as he tried to frame the words he would use to tell his father that one of his closest brothers had ordered genocide.

 

Ahriman, like Loken on the other side of the valley, was also treading on bones as he and his chosen Sekhmet made their way through the remains of the government building. Judging by the way the skeletons were lain they were waiting for someone.

Honour guard Ahriman dryly thought and continued making his way through the once elaborate hall towards what had been the records department. Nothing of what he saw suggested anything like rebellion.

If anything they had been waiting for the Primarch to descend. Broken and battered instruments told him that much. If this was a world in rebellion then there would be more military debris and then Dorn and his Fists would be vindicated.

He had found it hard to believe that such a figure as the Praetorian would have committed such an act, in fact when his father had told him who he had seen attacking this world he had hoped to the duality that he was wrong.

That the great ocean had shown him something that was a possibility not a fact. If it had been anyone else, Russ, Angron, Curze he might have believed it and if he had said Horus he might have believed it as the ferocity of the Lunar Wolves was well known.

But even Horus had the skills of a master diplomat and this would have been a last resort for him but the fact that not only Garvial Loken was shocked to the core but the famous First Captain too.

Ahriman and other captains in other legions were well known but there was none more famous then Ezekiel Abaddon his name brought fear throughout the galaxy but maybe the galaxy had its eternal defender in the likes of the ferocious First Captain.

He brought his mind back to the job at hand and as he walked through the gaping hole that had been the office wall. He found the battered report log and picked it up, from what he could tell there were the standard daily reports and then the reports of the arrival of the Phalanx.

So far as he could tell everything was as it should be. He read some more and then stopped and went back to a log entry that he had skimmed over.

Imperial Fist Scouts seen around the forbidden zone, reports in that they have killed anyone who dare oppose them. What is going on? We need clarification that the Imperial Fists are allowed into the very zone that our elders forbade anyone from entering.

He read the time index and sat back “Tuthor”

“My lord?” his sergeant stepped forward

“Is there anywhere marked the forbidden zone on those planetary maps?”

Tuthor was silent for a long moment and then answered his lords question “It is 600 kilometres due north of here my lord, I have had to archive old maps as it is not on any modern maps”

“You did good brother” Ahriman complimented “I should have remembered that planetary maps would have been updated. Whatever information you find on this society takes it with us.

We are here to investigate our father’s vision but let us not confine these worlds rich past to an ignoble end”

Aside from the psyker laws that seemed to govern their world and their gene-code being natural the Thousand Sons were and always would be historians. As their father had preached, it was one thing being conquers and the bringers of Imperial Truth but one should never forget the history of that world.

He could almost sense the sorrow in this place and it was not an illusion. His own powers although allowed him to see possible futures and outcomes could also pick up the pain and horror that surrounded this building.

The disbelief and the terror that must have flowed through these halls when they realised that the Primarch was not coming and in his place came death. He bowed his head in respect to the ghosts and the souls in this place and made a silent vow that he and his cousins would avenge them and let them rest in peace.

 

The Justerian and Abaddon moved through the barracks. Tanks and Chimeras sat idle alongside Rhinos and other troop carriers. Besenara, one of the Justerian commented that it looked like they were waiting for the call that never came.

Abaddon had to agree, he knew from experience that whenever a Primarch returned to a world he had conquered then there were full military parades and honours. The fact that none of the great machines of the Imperial Army had not moved out of their stations meant that something happened before they could be mobilised for ceremonial duties.

The Widow maker stopped by the metal warriors and saw the iconography of the Imperial Fists loving hand painted on the hulls and the turrets. With names like Wrath of Inwit, Ave Praetorian, Hammer of Dorn and Blade of Terra, it was obvious that the guard that had been left behind here to ensure the law of the Emperor remained was loyal to the Primarch.

He quickly recalled the regiment, the 6th armoured warriors of Nordfrick. He brought it to Abaddons attention, a worthy regiment with many battle honours. They had both seen them fight before and if humans had any of the same drive as the Astartes then it was these men and women.

“My Lord” Raxial the sergeant to the left of Kibre spoke up “Lord Loken has reported that his approach to the arena is full of bones and that his apothecary has confirmed they were killed by bolter fire.

Lord Ahriman has also confirmed that log reports were asking why Imperial Fist Scouts were here”

“Acknowledged” Abaddon curtly replied and without another word moved towards the barracks leaving Falkus to arrange the Justerian in a wide spread, bolters raised and ready for anything.

What confused Abaddon the most was that as he made his way through the barracks there were no bodies. He had received more word from the lord of the Tenth and a visual on what he and his chosen were seeing.

Ahriman had sent a visual of the ruins of the government buildings and he had expected to see something similar instead it was deserted. As if they had just abandoned their posts.

There would have been no Titans, he knew this for a fact they would have left when the Imperial Fists had left to continue their part of the crusade but of the troops there was not a sign.

Lenox and Castile came out the far barracks and saluted Abaddon as he came over “Report” He ordered his patience beginning to fray at the edges.

“None of the bunks have been slept in my lord” Lenox reported, “No weapons and no belongings, all that is left is dust”

“By the balls of Valdor what the hell is going on here?” He seethed “an entire regiment does not just disappear into thin air!”

He stormed into the commanders’ office and saw nothing but empty desks, a map of the world and again dusts. In frustration he banged his mighty fist on the desk causing it to crack in two and fall to the floor.

“Someone gives me a fucking answer!” he roared.

He turned as Brother Agelo of the Tenth appeared in the doorway and moved to one knee.

“My apologies lord” He waited for Abaddon to acknowledge him and stood straight up “My lord Loken respectfully asks that you come join him by the arena where Lord Ahriman also awaits you”

Abaddon took a last look round the deserted office and nodded “Lead on Brother Agelo”

Falkus could understand the First Captains frustration and of all the Lunar Wolves, it was a known fact that once Abaddon stated getting frustrated with something he would look for something, anything to kill.

He hated mysteries, all the Wolves did, it was not how they liked to operate, this was probably more suited to the Thousand Sons, they were used to this kind of work as it was part of their Gene Code to make sense out of the insensible but not so the sons of C’thonia.

He reminded himself to ensure the First Captains humours stayed in balance better for them all that they did.

 

The Heart of Konnor screamed into the materium like a great carnivore of old Terra. The length of the vessel still flexed as it came into real space and began to slow as its prey turned to face it.

On the bridge the crew went about their business as efficiently as people of Ultramar would and the giant of giants above on the strategic deck looked down with pride. Each and every man and woman that worked this vessel was a son and daughter of Macragge.

No matter what the reputation of this Primarch and his sons, the lord of the Ultramarines was certain his crew as well as his own sons would not be found wanting. He moved down onto the main bridge and took centre stage.

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his head a little higher. His eyes always calm, focused on the job at hand. Those that had met Roboute Gulliman before they fell to their knees with their sensibilities missing always spoke of how calm he was. How he was always the driving force behind his sons’ achievements.

It was no small feat to rule an empire and it took Primarch like Gulliman with his sheer force of will and power of command to rule an empire like Ultramar. How he managed was beyond human understanding.

He had taken the world that had been his adoptive fathers, not only did he forge an empire of warriors and workers all united in one course of loyalty and make that an empire to rival any other but. He was also argumentatively the father of the largest of the legions’.

There were those that said his sons were nothing more than mindless drones. The Ultimate Warrior as he was affectionately known in some circles allowed a small dry smile to cross his mouth.

Those that said such things had no idea on how his sons and his people worked. Least of all the man that he was about to face.

The screen changed and to give the bridge crew of Gullimans vessel credit not one of them flinched. He would not have blamed them if they did, when one faced the Night Haunter – well lesser men would tremble.

The tombstone features were as ever grime and foreboding; the dark eyes were – well if Roboute allowed himself the fancy – like staring into the eyes of a shark. They were cold, lifeless and soulless.

Of course there were also those that said if such a thing was still relevant in this day and age then it would be also like looking into the eyes of the devil himself. At least with his brothers Angron and Russ he could understand their violence but Konrad; there was no pattern to Konrad’s violence that he could discern.

“Ah” Curze’s voice rasped as he sat forward on his throne “Roboute, you have come to see me I wager”

“We will talk Konrad” He kept his deep voice steady but, knowing what his brother was capable off did not help a slight shiver flutter down his spine.

Primarchs knew fear occasionally and when one faced the master of fear then your nightmares really did come true.

“Will we now?” Curze chuckled although it was not anything to be relaxed by, more like the hunter who toyed with his prey “And why would I answer your summons?”

“We will talk alone brother, kin to kin I will have the answers for the genocide you and your sons left behind on Mortai”

Curze regarded him coolly and sat back in his seat “Very well brother, as you wish. We shall meet, kin to kin but are you sure you want the answers I will give you Roboute? Whatever you think of me you know I speak only truth”

“This I know already”

“Then I will come aboard. I have not yet had the pleasure of being aboard your vessel and I ask that you dim the lights”

Gulliman nodded knowing how sensitive his brother was to the bright lights before he cut the connection the master of fear sat forward once more.

“Be careful what you wish for empire builder, you may not like what you get”


	13. Chapter 13

Abaddon joined his brother and cousin and opened a channel privately to his Mournival brother.

+++Why not vox me, why send Agelo? +++

+++Because I wanted you to see this and not hear it over the vox+++

Without another word Loken led his brother to the top of the rise and now he understood. He knew now why it was both Loken and Ahriman were stood apart from their squads and why Loken had not even called him privately.

Blow him were bones…. thousands of bones all in various states of whiteness lay like a carpet of the dead. He said nothing but his neck muscles throbbed showing not only his disgust but also his growing anger. He wanted something to kill that much was obvious.

Ahriman glanced at his Lunar Wolf cousin and for the briefest of moments got a flash of a possible future. One where the Imperium feared Abaddon and not as an avenging force of the Emperor but as a force for the beings that resided in the great ocean.

He shook his head and dispelled the image that had risen in his mind unbidden. He was glad it was just a possible future but he hoped it was one not to come. A warrior with the skills of Abaddon against the Imperium was not good thing. It would be a dark day indeed.

“Ahriman spoke of a forbidden zone “Loken quietly spoke to his brother, his disgust at what was lain out below them evident in his stance.

“Forbidden Zone?” Abaddon turned his head and stared at the Thousand Son “What forbidden zone?”

Loken knew that tone, it was a hope that there might be a reasonable explanation for what has happened and if it meant vindicating their cousins in the Imperial Fists and most of all being able to tell their father that one of his closest brothers was not insane.

“It is an area that the ancients of this world once used to worship their ancient gods.” Ahriman explained “They turned against these religions long before the Imperial Fists came here”

“So what happened, walk and talk” Abaddon told both fellow captains as they headed off towards the Forbidden Zone.

“Do you recall how when Lorgar arrived on Colchis and his rise to prominence resulted in a planet wide civil war?” Ahriman asked.

“Yes” Loken replied, “Our father told us the ways of Colchis were more than any other Primarch engrained on his psyche”

“Similar happened here. The records I found suggested that the Religious warriors and their priest masters waged war on the populace to bring them to heel. The war lasted several decades and eventually they surrendered.”

“So falls all religions” Abaddon growled, admiration for the people of this world growing in his breast.

Erebus had once told him what the civil war on Colchis was like and what it had taken the forces of Lorgar to take down the Covenant but, these people had no Primarch to lead them they had done it themselves.

Now he could understand why Loken was empathic with some mortals. These mortals had risen against the cause of their misery and done what any revolutionary done. Fight.

“Someone hundred years after the civil war people went missing only for their mutilated bodies were found several days later in this area that was the religious centre. They had wiped out any and all followers of those gods they had once obediently followed but such was their fear they abandoned the area and collapsed the ruins.”

“And banned anyone from entering it?”

“Yes Garvial, hence the Forbidden Zone” Ahriman nodded “The reason we are going is the last vox message spoke about Imperial Fist Scouts being in the area”

“Better take a look then” Abaddon growled.

 

The two giants stood across from each other in the private stratagem of the Ultimate Warrior. The lights were dimmed to compensate for his brothers sensitivity to the brightness of the light but the atmosphere was far from amicable.

He had arrived with his first captain Sevatar and Chan his Equerry who, at their fathers’ request remained outside giving him and his brother some time alone. Gulliman sat down and after a few moments Curze sat across from him.

Both men remained with eyes locked on each other. Gulliman was not afraid of his brother and Curze was certainly not afraid of anyone and it showed on his bloodless lips that seemed to the Primarch of the Ultramarines to be a conceited smirk.

“So” Curze spoke, and when he spoke it sounded like all the worst children’s nightmares rolled into one tone “I take it you have come from Mortai then?”

“Why Konrad” Gulliman asked

“Why Konrad what?” Curze kept his face poker straight but it had thrown him a little, he was not used to be being addressed by his Christian name. Most of his brothers called him Curze or Night Haunter.

“Why did you destroy that world populace?”

“They had gone against the rule of the Imperium, I acted on our fathers orders and did as he required of me and my sons”

“Not complete genocide brother” Gulliman stressed, “It is true what Rogal says about you, there is no in-between with you, you do not allow for mercy”

“Dorn” Curze smirked “he and I have come to an – understanding of late that is, amicable for all concerned”

Gulliman arched a disbelieving eyebrow. He had heard the grapevine tattle, he had been told that when Curze had attacked Dorn he had almost killed him and the two Primarchs had been at loggerheads ever since.

He was shocked to hear that the two brothers had come to some peace, pleased as it made life a lot easier in the long run; it did not do for the spirit of the Crusade to have two powerful figures at each other’s throats.

“I am glad to hear it” Gulliman spoke quietly.

“But that does not answer the question that is lingering in your mind”

Curze's voice dropped to a haunting whisper and it was a tone that Gulliman had listened too many times when he was in the company of all of his brothers.

It was the voice of a judge that was about to declare judgement on his prisoner, in the old days of Terra it would have been a black cap on the head signifying the sentence of death and whilst that had long since faded into memory, talking to Konrad Curze when he had that tone of voice always reminded the father of the Ultramarines of those moments.

How a prisoner facing his sentence would react when he received the death sentence was pretty much how anyone facing the Master of Fear when he used that tone.

“I expected the Governor to be killed and his fellow government that I can understand but an entire world?”

Curze cocked his head to one side and looked too all-intense and purposes like a predator eyeing up his next meal.

“What do you suggest would have been the better approach?”

“Re-education” Gulliman simply spoke.

Curze laughed but it was not a sound of mirth, more a dry laugh that rattled the bones and sent fear and terror up the spine of a lesser man, as stoic and fearless as he was even Gulliman suppressed a tremor as he heard it.

“And what Empire Builder, would that have achieved? A world that is taught how to be part of the Imperium but at the heart lies a cancer that will burn and eventually cause them to rebel again.

No Roboute, what I did was the right course of action. The planet will be populated again and the Mechanicum will be able to extract the minerals for the weapons and machines that we all use.

You of all people should understand the Order in it all. The people of Ultramar have a tough and hard-working existence but they are loyal to the Imperium and their master. As I recall life on all the planets but mainly Calth is not easy but they endure.

I merely ensured that any other world thinking of rebelling against fathers rule think again. Sometimes brother even a hint of my sons or the sons of Angron is not enough to stop the fires. When word reaches out what has happened here than others will learn”

“So you say,” Gulliman retorted then paused as the weight of what his socially inept brother was implying, “You are telling me that the Mechanicum wanted this world for its minerals and father just let you do this?”

Curze said nothing a smirk was all that was his reply. He got up and Gulliman rose with him.

“Konrad!” His voice was sharp and Curze arched an eyebrow “Father let you do this? With no threat of repercussions? I cannot believe this!”

“Believe what you want Gulliman, I am not here to fuel your fantasies or your paranoia”

“Paranoia HAH!” Gulliman laughed a little “That's rich coming from the master of paranoia” He narrowed his blue eyes and pointed at his brother “You will not get away with this Curze”

Curze smirked and walked to the door “It appears brother that I already have” and with that he walked out, several minutes later his vessel turned and headed on it way.

Gulliman clenched his fists and looked at the Master “Plot me a course to intercept with the Vengeful Spirit, the warmaster needs to hear this”

 

The forbidden zone.

The way Ahriman had told them what the people here had thought of the place did it no justice. Everything around it was dead blasted by weapons old and new but that just made the place look more like something out of a horror movie or ghost story.

Trees stood twisted in strange shapes and had they been more human they might have thought more suggestive. The ground was burnt to ash and as they walked through the wasteland they kicked the ash of wars past and present under foot and it rose in a small clouds of grey mist.

They carried on walking making their way towards the inner circle. A message from Kelso of Breakspear had them running over. Near the entrance to an old temple lay not just the bodies of Venusian soldiers but the bodies of the Imperial Fists scouts.

Abaddon crouched down with Loken and inspected the scene around him. The way the soldiers lay it looked as if they were attacked first.

“They got lucky, it was scouts” Abaddon mused “Tough as our scouts are they are not yet full Astartes”

Kibre made his way over and joined both the Mournival Lords “I've had a scout round with Rathames. We believe that, by the reports made there is a Venusian patrol permanently stationed here.

When they saw the Fists they would not have attacked only when they emerged from here with whatever caused the soldiers to try and stop them”

“Better go inside then” Ahriman said “otherwise we might not have the complete answers to give the Warmaster”

Abaddon and Loken got to their feet and with a look around at the carnage they moved inside the temple.

It was just as they expected an old temple to old faiths to be, columns rose high into the air and the remnants of a roof lay scattered all around them. Mosaics stared at them from the shattered floor.

Ahriman crouched down and brushed his gauntlet along the floor and carried on for a little while then stopped. Loken and Abaddon walked over to stand either side of him and gazed down at the image the Thousand Son First Captain had uncovered.

A being who was neither male nor female and being attended to by a male and a female in various acts of debauchery. Loken shuddered and stepped back. He was about to suggest they left when he was called over by Vipus.

His oldest friend pointed to an alcove. Loken peered in to see nothing but a smashed alter and whatever was on there was gone.

“There was a force field around this” Vipus explained “then it was hidden from view by the stonework. If what Lord Ahriman said is anything to work by, the people who rejected the religion and its masters covered this up so that no one ever saw it again. “

“They would not have been able to break the field so they built a stone coffin to keep whatever was there out of sight” Loken added “Looks like the scouts found it when they were discovered”

“Garvi” Vipus lowered his voice “Everything here suggests the people were defending themselves. Scouts or not they would still be no matches against semi-Astartes”

Loken looked around him and nodded, his sergeant was quite correct and he patted Vipus on the shoulder in thanks then re-joined Abaddon who was watching Ahriman.

The Lord of the Corvidae had gone looking for anything to explain what god or goddess or manner off creature the early Venusians worshipped. The famous First Captain of all First Captains gripped his bolter tighter and sighed heavily.

+++ I do not like this place Garvi, it smacks of secrets, fanes and old style demon stories +++

+++ The truth is plain to see Ezekiel, the Imperial Fists scouts attacked this place when they were discovered where they should not have been. +++

+++ Aye brother, I want to know what they took, yet the more I look at what is plain to my eyes I cannot help but believe that Dorn has gone mad +++

+++ I don't know about mad +++ Loken mused +++ but he wanted something from here and then he ordered the destruction of this place +++

+++ Forgive me Cousins, I think I have the answers, if you would not mind joining me in here +++ Ahriman apologetically cut across the two Lunar Wolves conversation.

Without another word they left Kibre and Vipus with Osisrius to keep watch just in case there were any survivors who needed help. Not that they thought there would be, they were wrong.

 

They found Ahriman on the floor of what was left of what was probably the vestry and in his lap lay the head of a young man in the tattered remains of a Venusian uniform. Abaddon and Loken looked at each other in shock and amazement that someone survives this.

They crouched down as Ahriman; his helmet by his side put his fingers to his lips and returned his attention to the wounded soldier. Loken took a look over the human and realised that he had probably survived by his sheer dint of needing someone to know what had occurred here.

He would not last long and as Ahriman was also the chief of all Chaplains in the Thousand Sons it would be he who would put the man at peace if he wanted it.

“Okasar” Ahriman gently spoke “This is Captain Abaddon and Captain Loken of the Lunar Wolves. Their Father the Warmaster has sent them here to find out what happened. I want you to tell them what you told me”

The man, who in Abaddons estimation was probably no more than mid to late twenties, seemed to shrink back but then again, after what had happened here he could hardly blame him.

Finally he spoke and Loken was stunned at the gentleness and respect that Ahriman treated the soldier. There were those who said Astartes did not have compassion and in some instances this was correct for they were made to war and bring death and destruction at the command of the Primarchs and the Emperor – beloved by all – but in this moment Loken forgot the hurtful names that his cousins in the Thousand Sons were known by.

Right at this moment he saw Ahriman in a different light and it was one that would never leave him.

“They came here and asked to see the old temple” The man rasped “We told them that none could enter here, it was forbidden less the - cough – less the evil here escape and reclaim our world”

The soldier spasm once more and Ahriman handed him some water to drink. Loken gently raised the soldiers head to enable him to sip from the water skin, this man, this warrior needed to see that they were here in peace not about to have the same fate his brothers and sisters in arms fared.

“Who were they son?” Abaddon asked.

“We were – were waiting for the mighty Dorn, we thought he had come to recruit once more from our world”

Loken nodded more to himself The Fists returned once in a generation to a recruiting world when they needed to.

“Instead our patrol found his Scouts here. They did not listen and entered this place, we thought they were going to research it for some test but when they came out they had the statue of the two bodied evil that once guided our destinies”

“Two bodied evil?” Abaddon had removed his helm and arched an eyebrow

“Neither male nor female, pleasure and pain, dark and light all rolled into one. We had been unable to break the statue so our forefathers had encased it in a tomb and then destroyed the temple less its influence be felt once more.”

The soldiers eyes started to close and Loken gave him some more water “The Scouts took it?”

“They accused us of betraying the Emperor by holding something that belonged to him. They would not listen and that’s when they fired at us, we got two of them but then – then their masters in yellow came amongst us killing us, I was thrown in here by an explosion and I vowed to – to tell the truth before I die.

Lights from the sky killed the cities I – I know no more. So if Dorn has sent you to kill me then do it”

“We are not sent from Dorn son” Ahriman whispered “Do you wish to be at peace now; I can end your pain if you like.”

“Promise me that you will not forget what you have seen and that you will avenge us”

Loken and Abaddon shared a look and both nodded as one “You have our word” They said in unison.

Ahriman administered the Emperors Peace and lay the body down. Abaddon holstered his bolter and drew in a long shuddery breath. He did not speak for a moment or two, he did not need to the other two captains knew the import of what was said and no words were necessary now.

“Falkus, Vipus and Osisrius burial detail all the bodies of the Venusian soldiers I want given a warrior’s burial and the bodies of the scouts are to come back with us. Maybe Lord Magnus can find some way of getting their orders out of their bodies”

Ahriman arched an eyebrow as Abaddon picked up the body of the now dead soldier.

“I did not think you believed in a soul Ezekiel”

“When we die, do our memories and honour live on in the next warrior who has our gene-seed?” he simply asked and then walked away.

“Wonders will never cease” Ahriman smiled a little “The feared first captain a philosopher”

“He has his moments” Loken grinned despite the situation and went to help his brothers.

Three hours later the Photep was on her way back toward the Vengeful Spirit.


	14. Chapter 14

Angron roared his battle cry across the desert lands of Magara and to the xenos that were attacking it sounded like the worst demon of their hell. The Maragarans were not human not in the sense of the definitions that his father had set down.

They were descended from birds. Their skins were covered in varying plumes of feathers and the World Eaters had worked out that the brighter the feathers the higher ranked they were in their society.

It mattered not, they were not human, they were Xenos and as such they could not be allowed to live. The battle had raged for days and despite the sickness at the thought that Xenos abominations were trying to live like humans, Kharn and his father had a sneaky admiration for the way they fought.

They were tough to kill and their aerial attacks were something to behold, Humans in fighters could do no better than these natural aerial fighters. They had attacked the moment the World Eaters had made planet fall and they were warriors of skill.

But the World Eaters were not alone. At Angrons word the Salamanders came through the clouds and the smoke, their father at the head. When they had been told they would be accompanying the World Eaters to reclaim this system, the Emperor had called it a crusade within a crusade.

He had said that this world and all her neighbours would make a great staging area to keep watch on anything that would threaten the Imperium once it was solid and built to last.

Vulkan however, had his doubts about working with the War Hound and his sons, lately it was becoming more noticeable that Angron was more blood thirsty then usual and although Astartes were not known for their gentleness in the theatre of war, to Vulkans mind all the bioengineering and blood-lust enhancements that the World Eaters had done to them had made them worse than any legion.

He had heard the stories beginning to circle the crusade, that there were those legions once being called to punishment by the emperor were now being given leeway to do what they must to ensure the great crusade continued at pace and in a way pleasing to the master of mankind.

Still that could be dealt with after; as it stood so far Angron had been fairly amicable during the last six months they had warred in this system. Vulkan was a little surprised at that fact but, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he did as the War Hound wanted and the Salamanders brought up the surprise assault that nailed the victory they needed.

Kharn and his company fought with the blood and fire of any Astartes and more. Their enhancements had ensured that they fought long after wounds even suffered by their cousins would lay them low.

Captain J'sara of the 8th Company Salamanders fought his way through the arian attacks, his mighty hammer setting about any and all aliens that thought they were better than mankind’s finest warriors.

He joined Khans side and together they roared to the Emperor and fought on, their objective was to take and hold the area that had been identified as the Xenos command building.

“Well met Cousin Kharn” J'sara nodded.

“Well met Cousin” Kharn breathed and to J'sara his voice sound like it was teetering on the edge of the abyss. Between sanity and insanity.

The lull in the fighting had given them a chance to take stock of their situation and gave Kharn a chance to sound out his cousin, as per instructions of his father. Kharn was not known to be a bloodthirsty warrior and indeed any who had seen him with Angron had noted that the 8th Company commander and the equerry to the Primarch seemed to have a way with him.

Able to calm his moods as and when it was needed. He was a diplomat without peer in those circumstances and Angron rarely listened to anyone save Kharn. The young Astartes who, after the Emperor had plucked the Primarch from D’eshara, managed to withstand a beating that had killed four of his brothers and make the grieving enraged Primarch see sense.

It was said that the Emperor himself owed Kharn for bringing his son back from the brink of madness but there were some who thought that Angron was beyond that and it was his own genetic coding that stopped him from slipping over the edge. But it was plain to all, that Kharn was the favoured of Angrons sons and always would be.

Kharn watched the Apothecaries from both companies tend to the wounded and collect the gene-seed from the dead so that the legion would live on. J’Sara removed his helm to reveal skin as black as night. His eyes were blue and there were tattoos across his face not to mention what looked like scaring on his neck.

The tattoo was a salamander, the lizard that gave the sons of Vulkan their name and the scarring Kharn also knew was ritualistic perhaps to honour the victories they had won or blame themselves for the losses they might have accrued.

Either way it was no different in Khan’s eyes to the honour bouts that the World Eaters took part in on their vessels between battles to keep the blood honed and the battle spirits in their armour primed for use.

It was also suspected that even though the Emperor had brought his way of life to Nocturne, none of the superstitions lived on not only in the Salamanders themselves but their father too.

Kharn surveyed the battlefield and was pleased with what he saw. They had done well and the taking of the command building, should be easier then were thought by the human commanders that travelled with them.

“Tell me cousin, let us use a for instance, what if the Emperor decided to change his rules on what should and should not happen in the crusade, would the Salamanders follow his lead?”

J’Sara blinked a couple of times and looked a little puzzled by the question Kharn posed to him.

“Are there those that say the Sons of Nocturne are not loyal?” He asked warily.

Kharn recalled his father’s words and wiped the sweat from his brow, ever since the Emperor had unveiled his new strategy his father was embracing it full force, but word had come through that the Emperor wanted to bring the Salamanders into the fold.

He had a soft spot for Vulkan and Angron had charged Kharn with the job of putting the seed of doubt into the warrior’s heads and he will deal with Vulkan.

“I heard that the Ultramarines dared dispute the order given to the Night Lords in dealing with a renegade planet. I also hear that they believe that the Salamanders do not do as much as anyone else.”

J'sara could not believe what he was hearing, everyone knew that the Ultramarines were the largest of the legions but to hear that they looked down on his legion made his blood boil, so much so that when he lead his men alongside Kharn he took his frustration out on the xenos that came at them.

Kharn privately contacted his father +++ I have planted the seed father, I leave it in your hands now+++

 

Vulkan sat across from Angron, the victory won and the clean-up beginning leaving the Astartes to start scaling down and returning to their vessels. Angron held his hand out and leant across the table. His huge bulk easily covered the entire table.

Vulkan clasped his brother’s hand and held it for a moment or two, to have done anything else would have been an insult. Vulkan was well aware what happened to those that insulted the Red Angel.

“You have cut the braid with me Vulkan, I have hit the anvil of war with you, and together we have honoured each other.” Angron let his hand go and watched the Nocturnes lord’s dark features. “Something on your mind brother?”

Vulkan sighed a little and glanced over his shoulder. Angron saw his bodyguard standing around the entrance and with a gruff nod dismissed them. It was obvious that what his dark skinned brother had to say was for their ears only.

“I have heard a rather disconcerting rumour Angron, perhaps you may clarify it for me” Vulkan steadily asked

Angron raised his tankard and nodded “Go ahead Great Salamander” He used his nickname given to his brother by others but he was also called the Blacksmith and when you knew of his skill with an anvil then it was a high honour indeed.

He even made the father of the Iron Hands pale in comparison sometimes. Vulkan was a quiet man of few words, believing the actions of his sons and his expedition spoke for them selves.

Angron respected Vulkan for his honesty and his honour in battle but what he did now was as per instructions of his father. That was the only reason Angron was going along with this deception.

“It came to my attention that there are those amongst out more – smug brothers who believe that my sons and I are not pulling our weight”

Angron swallowed his ale and set it on the table. He heaved a heavy sigh, a long sigh and shook his head “I could not believe it when I heard it myself brother, after the battle we have fought here and the blood shed by both my World Eaters and Salamanders I will not allow any to say different.”

“But?”

“But the voices are spoken by those that are listened to.”

“Was Gulliman one of them?” Vulkan demanded.

Angron shrugged a little and it was like watching a Bull Mastiff loosening his muscles before he pounced.

“So I hear brother but father does not believe a word of it and to prove it he is coming here to speak with you and your brave sons”

That took Vulkan by surprise, his choler cooled a little, and The Emperor had not been seen since he departed the Great Crusade after Ullanor. He had heard that he had come out of his self-imposed seclusion but he did not for one moment believe that he would be coming here.

“To see me and my sons?” Vulkans voice was lower now, almost as if he was in awe.

“He should be here in a week, it will give us time to prepare” Angron poured another tankard for himself and his brother “He has a new plan brother, one that will ensure our victory and man to rule the stars”

“I have not heard of this surely Horus should be here”

Angron waved his hand a little dismissively “In time I believe Father will make his plans known but for now he is sounding us out one by one and so far all of us that have been spoken too have agreed with his vision”

Vulkan rubbed his jaw “Whom else has he spoken with about this?”

“Myself, Fulgrim, Curze” he saw the light of uncertainty in his brothers eyes as he mentioned the lord of fear “Lorgar, Ferrus, Johnson and Dorn”

At the mention of the latter three names Vulkan seemed to relax “Whatever our father wishes of me I will do. I swore my fealty to me when he saved my life on Nocturne there is nothing I would not do for him Angron and this he knows”

Angron covered his bestial smile with his tankard “Let us make plans brother for our father must have the welcome of welcomes.”

Vulkan nodded and yet at the back of his mind he planned to confront Gulliman over the allegations made. He had a fairly good relationship with Roboute and he saw no reason why the Ultimate Warrior would say such a thing.

He would deal with it later, for now he had a legion to ensure was not found wanting in the eyes of the master of mankind. However Angron was the one most known to be angered at their father for events at D'eshara ad if this great new journey of his had swayed his most angered son then it could only mean good for mankind.

 

To watch the might of the mechanicum, as they made ready for the Emperors arrival was indeed an awe-inspiring sight. Vulkan stood beside Angron and both Primarchs could see the awe that was written across the human soldiers as well as their own sons at the work that the Mechanicum took upon itself.

They had taken the mountains to the north of them and flattened them in days. Billions upon billions of years of evolutions changed in the matter of 48 hours. The machines they used were like nothing mankind could have constructed a few centuries ago and now, the talents of the scions of Mars were like watching ancient gods carve their lands.

The two Primarch's had watched as the mountains, once so tall and proud, majestic against the pale ice blue of the sky fall to the planet floor. To be rolled over like they were nothing but ice in a glass and shattered into nothingness.

By the fourth day the once proud mountains was now a one-hundred mile long arena that would not only accommodate the Legions of the World Eaters and the Salamanders but the humans that fought alongside them and the Titans that fought alongside them.

Every Captain in every company of Salamanders and World Eaters ensured that their companies were up to the high expectations of their fathers, on any occasion it was essential to remind the Imperial Army who was the real favoured of the master of mankind but this was Ullanor all over again.

Back then it had been the Emperor with his legions being told that he was handing command of the crusade to Horus and he was retiring. Now it was just between them and the great father of the stars.

Kharn had gone out of his way to befriend J'sara and what had started as a means to complete his father’s mission turned into a genuine friendship. Kharn liked the Salamanders; they had cut the braid with the World Eaters and become true brothers in arms.

Kharn had heard his father was thinking of returning to D'eshara to conclude some unfinished business and he had asked Vulkan to join him in something that was personal to him and him alone.

That would all depend on the word of their grandfather. He turned as J'sara joined his side and watched as the Titans and Warhounds brought up the rear. The Emperor would arrive in the morning and it would take all night just to prepare the parade ground.

This was a logistical nightmare and for the briefest of moments they understood what it was that the warsmiths and captains of the Iron Warriors not to mention the mighty Perturabo had to deal with on one of their siege battles.

Next came the Imperial Armies armoured divisions followed several hours later by the Imperial Army guard units. Kharn turned as the lights of dawn began peeking over the horizon.

“I will see you there cousin” He clasped the hand of J'sara “Were you at Ullanor J'sara?”

J’Sara shook his head “I was the other side of the galaxy at the time Kharn, I missed the honour of that day.”

“Then this is a day you will never forget not for as long as you live” Kharn swept his arm before him “This is what the Mechanicum can do in a week, and other worlds can see the majesty that is the lords of Mars and their people’s works.

But there is a day dawning cousin that you and your brothers will never forget, for the Emperor walks amongst us again and to see him in all his glory is to know he is the true master of mankind”

J’Sara nodded solemnly and with his helm tucked under his arm he walked out with Kharn and parted to meet his company. His stride was a little surer and, like all his brothers in the Salamanders, his gait was taller, the Emperor was coming here and whatever the master of mankind wanted doing it would be done and not one of the sons of Vulkan would be found wanting.

The rememberancers took their places each and every member of the order from both the Salamander and World Eaters expeditionary forces. Both Primarch's had decided that this was a day too monumental to be forgotten.

The Emperor watched from his tent as the final preparations for his appearance was being put in place. He turned to see Angron and Vulkan kneeling before him and smiling placed both his hands on their pauldrons and bid them to rise.

Angrons armour more than any other of his brothers looked like the old armour of the Romani. Gold plate over red, his red hair swept back and tied into braids that flowed down to his neck.

His right pauldron was carved into the head of the eagle but the beak of the eagle came up in a sharp point and woe betide those that found themselves shoved aside. His pale face lit up by the glow from his collar made him look more frightening then he already did.

His face was like a predators with his cheeks sharply pointed almost dagger like, his eyes were ringed in red and his eyes shone white with no iris, his twin axes Gorefather and Gorechild sat in both hands at rest although the Emperor could see his son was itching to use them once more.

He turned to Vulkan who kept his eyes lowered. His armour of the brightest green and his backpack had two salamander heads either side. His right arm was sheathed in a silver salamander head shone to the highest brilliance.

His Warhammer seemed to glow with an unearthly fire and this was why he was the Blacksmith, one hammer sheathed the other in his palm, it was a sight to stir the heart when Vulkan strode the field of battle twirling his twin hammers in unison and destroying the enemies of the Imperium with each mighty blow.

His black skin seemed to shine with a sheen of its own he had no hair preferring to be bald and have the heat of a thousand suns of a thousand worlds he had strode on his skin.

Like all sons of the fire he was most at home with it all. His eyes glowed red like all people of his adopted world and his father wondered what else his son saw with those eyes of his.

The Emperor moved to Vulkan and embraced him warmly, stepped back and looked proudly at his ebony skinned son. “I knew you were a warrior of renown Vulkan, I could never forget the battle atop Death Fire”

“You saved my life father” Vulkan replied

“As you would have saved mine and in recognition of your often forgotten battles by those who deem their own legions worthier of the accolades of war.”

He turned and nodded to the mighty Valdor who was stood a respectful distance behind his master. Valdor opened a large weapons case.

“Ferrus made this on my instructions Vulkan”

The Emperor removed a fire wreathed hammer from its case. Taller and bigger than the mighty Terminators and only crafted for the hands of a Primarch. The Emperor handed it to his son who stared in shock for a moment then slowly took the hammer.

Like all of Ferrus Mannus's work it was crafted with the spirit and honour of the Iron Hands Primarch. Like Vulkan whatever Ferrus created he put a little of himself in the weapon and it showed in the perfect lines and the keenness of the head.

But more then that the images and details that were carved into the head and staff were nothing like Vulkan had ever seen. As he turned it over in his massive hands he swallowed slowly as he saw his own image engraved into the shaft. The Head was shaped like a mighty Salamander its mouth open as if it were ready to breathe eternal fire on his enemies.

“He named it Sa’gera; apparently it means fire head in the tongue of the Medusans.” The Emperor smiled “I infused it with a little reminder to your enemies who you are and whose blood runs in your veins”

“Thank you father” Vulkan bowed his head “I will thank Ferrus when I next encounter him”

The Emperor sat down and bid his sons sit with him and his gaze fell on Vulkan “Things are changing Vulkan and I need to know that you will be with me when I illuminate the universe into the way of the Emperor of Mankind”

Vulkans brow furrowed in confusion was this not what they were doing anyway? Bringing the universe to the power of its rightful rulers. To him this sounded suspiciously like what Lorgar would say.

He looked at Angron who kept his gaze fixed anywhere but either of them but then that was Angron, like a wild beast you could not maintain eye contact with him for long periods, it would be like challenging them.

He returned his gaze to his father “Does anyone else know of this new plan of yours?”

The Emperor sat forward and clasped his hands into a steeple “I have reason to believe that there are those who would not agree to this new direction of my crusade. If I told you that I am a god, that I can bend and shape the crusade into a way that the Eldar will either serve or die, the other Xenos will bow before us all as the rightful rulers, what would you say?”

“Father.... you always said that religion was the evil of all ills” Vulkan was knocked for six by his father’s words.

Had Lorgars mad ranting’s finally got to him? After all there was a saying on Nocturne that false gods could be wrathful and if their father who had destroyed all the churches on Terra, unified Terra under that same belief that religion was the scourge of all civilisation and here he was now saying that all that was a lie.

The Emperor got up and seeing how confused his son was he moved round behind him and leant forward “Come with me Vulkan, I have something I want to show you”

 

The Rememberancers looked around them, daring to believe that they were here to witness something that had been denied to them at Ullanor. The chatter amongst them was of heightened excitement.

They could all see that of the thousands of Rememberancers across the fleets they were being given the honour of honours. One or two boasted about how they would write a prose to commemorate this day, artists bickered over how best to portray the Emperor when he appeared beside his two noble sons.

Others spoke of how they would carve the likeness of the two Primarchs and their father but one was more concerned about why it was taking so long.

Veluva Garston had been assigned here to capture the day in image and her camera was ready but she was uneasy. She came from the lands of the Afrycas and her skin shone a dark black, her eyes a pale brown and her black ringlet hair were tied back into a bun.

She had always followed her gut and something right now was telling her that there was something wrong here. The Warmaster and his brothers that attended Ullanor had forbade the Rememberancers any access to this most private of moments, even the Imperial Army was denied such an honour so, the question remained why now?

If she saw what was going on between the Emperor and his son then she might have wished she had stayed at home.

 

Vulkan screwed his eyes shut as the images whirled in his mind, vying for attention and calling him to choose which one of them would be his patron. Blood flowed from his nose and his eyes and he felt two muscled arms wrap around his chest.  
He gripped the hammer that his father had given him wanting to draw strength from the gift created with the hands of the Gorgon but the more he gripped it the more the images began to coalesce in front of him.

A feathered serpent of many colours promising him the gift of day’s future and past, what had come and what would come and what might come all for his benefit and his power if only he would follow him and him alone then a being encased in mighty blood red armour promising the glories and strengths of battle that could only be found in following his tenants.

A great bloated beast spilling death, disease and decay promising his warriors and he protection from death but that had to embrace him first and become one with the grandfather of all.

Finally, a beautiful figure that was part man, part woman and almost Eldar in appearance, Vulkan rebelled at the image disgusted that something Eldar like would dare come to him asking his fealty.

Vulkan groaned as the denizens of the warp vied for his attention and he fell to his knees, his father’s voice close to his ear, holding him as he would an injured or sick child.

“This is what I must do to ensure victory my son. I want the Salamanders to bring their fire and their fury to all the enemies that would destroy my worlds and my empire. Join me Vulkan, my beloved son of fire”

Vulkan roared as a second voice came to his mind; it seemed to emanate from the Warhammer that he clutched tightly urging him to follow his father’s plans, to be the favoured son who would bring his father’s wrath to those, mortal and brother who refused to follow the new Imperial Truth.

Finally he slumped forward and blacked out.

He didn’t know how long he was out for but when he came round he was laid on a dais with his father and brother sitting close by. Angron gripped his hand in the warriors grip, no pretence, and no deception. Vulkan had shown him respect and his sons had warred with his sons, as family should, not condemn the violence the World Eaters.

“Vulkan, my brother, we have cut the braid together…. do we still war as one?” Angron asked, his usual voice always teetering on the edge of madness or violence was gentle.

Vulkan sat up with help from them both and got to his feet. He looked around him as if he was in a place that he did not know. When the fog cleared he turned to his father and moved to one knee.

“Your will be done father” He muttered.

The Emperor smiled and bid his son to stand “Then order your sons to follow the lead of the World Eaters and those who do not…” His voice trailed off the implication clear.

Vulkan did as his father commanded.


	15. Chapter 15

Epilogue

J’Sara could not believe the order that came across from Vulkan and asked for clarification. It came as an order from his father. The Rememberancers were to die and any Imperial Army officer or Astartes that did not follow those order as given not just by Vulkan but the Emperor himself.

The Emperor appeared with Vulkan and Angron either side of him. He raised his hands as the humans and Astartes alike cheered him and screamed adulation at him. The humans all, Rememberancers and Imperial Army alike fell to their knees weeping and unable to look this magnificent figure directly in the eye for too long.

It did not matter to them that they were unmanned they were laying eyes on the master of mankind and if their eyes burnt out of their sockets then they would welcome it for they could say they witnessed the Emperor in all his glory.

J’Sara moved to the front with his company and he stopped as he saw Garston weeping. He had spoken with her several times and crouched down as if to help her stand.

“Can you pretend to faint?” He asked.

She jumped startled by his voice “What?”

“If you want to live faint so that I can take you away” he insisted

“But this…”

“You will die if you stay here now faint woman!”

His words chilled her and she did as he asked. He picked her up and moved to the back of his brothers, voxing his master and telling him that this Remembrancer had stone cold dropped dead.

So far so good and as he carried the limp body to the back of the crowd towards his Storm bird he thought for one moment he had got away with this.

+++ Brother where are you going? +++

He turned to see Kharn standing by his Storm bird with his men beside him and a sinking feeling entered his stomach.

+++ This is wrong Kharn, we are not meant to murder people in the name of what? +++

+++ Cousin there is a new dawn approaching one that will enlighten mankind and make us the rulers of the worlds as history tells us it will be +++

J’Sara shook his head +++ This is wrong cousin +++

Kharn stepped forward +++ Do not make me kill you J’sara +++

J’sara laid the woman on the ground and drew his bolter, his company followed suit, on a private vox he told his second, brother-sergeant M’ela to take the human woman and get the hell out of here and head for where the Warmaster was.

A company of World Eaters stopped beside J’sara and drew their weapons on their own brothers.

“This Kharn is wrong. I will not kill innocents, enemies yes, innocents no”

“Begalin” Kharn sneered, “Our father knew that you would be the one to fall.”

“My oath is to the Great Crusade Kharn, not what it is becoming”

The sounds of screams and bolt fire rang out as the Emperor gave his command. J’sara turned as his brothers not only turned on those who would not follow the Emperors new lead but their own brothers,

Astartes against Astartes the unthinkable had happened.

He fired at Kharn and all hell broke loose. He jumped at the equerry, one he had not a few day’s pervious warred alongside. He doubted he could kill Kharn; the man was a legend even to other warriors of other legions.

Still he had to give his sergeant time to get away. He got his wish, his sergeant with his company Fire Weaved, alongside some World Eaters took the only human who would survive the massacre and made their way towards the Storm bird.

J’sara felt the tears course down his face as over his vox he heard those brothers of his that would not stand such carnage die at the hands of their own brothers. Even the shock as Vulkan himself waged into the massacre screaming devotion to the emperor and as Kharns axe came down he felt his chest crack open and his helm roll away.

Kharns eyes were like a beast, the thrill of the kill lighting his eyes with an unnatural fire. He felt the axe come down again and smiled as he saw his Storm bird move out. He hoped that it would reach his battle barge and get out of here before the other vessels turned on it.

Blood spurted from his mouth as Kharn finally dealt the death blow and laughter echoed from his mouth.

He would not be here to see the actions of this day but he would die as a Salamander was once, with honour and with no innocent blood on his hands.


End file.
